Elder Scrolls: Jaws of Oblivion
by Blade for Hire
Summary: The fate of an Empire and its people. This is something Arken Dralkes never dreamed of being responsible for. After his capture and loss, Arken and his companions soon face a danger that spans an entire world. Sequel to ESIV: Seeds of Fate. CH6 up.
1. Prologue

Elder Scrolls IV: the Jaws of Oblivion

Prologue

_I was born eighty seven years ago. For sixty five years, I've ruled as Tamriel's emperor. Generals and kings have knelt at my command. And yet for all those years, I have never been the ruler of my own dreams. I've seen the gates of Oblivion, beyond which no waking eye may see. Behold, in darkness, a doom sweeps the land. The blood tide rises. This is the twenty seventh of Last Seed, the year of Akatosh, 433. These are the closing days of the Third Era…and the final hours of my life._


	2. Chapter I

I

Fynix Nylim sat on a sad excuse for a bed in the prison cell. He looked at his surroundings; the small, dark, dank, dingy, and drab little cell that had been his home for the last year. Fynix hung his head and rubbed his temple with two fingers as he recited several alchemical formulas in his mind. He held out his hand and lit a small magical flame in his palm that he quickly extinguished. The guards didn't notice if you kept in practice with small spells, but if they caught you practicing bigger magic, they didn't take too kindly to it. Fynix was a powerful battlemage and alchemist, a Dunmer born in the exotic land of Morrowind, but shipped to the Imperial Prison of Cyrodill. He'd been charged as a criminal for reasons he didn't know, and now his days were filled with practicing small spells and reciting alchemical formulas to stave off the boredom that was starting to gnaw at his sanity.

The Dunmer mage turned his head to look when he heard the cell door rattle hard. Arken Dralkes was once again practicing unarmed combat on the door. The Dark Elf thief unleashed a series of punches against the metal gate, following it up with a pair of chained linear kicks. He finished the chain with a solid elbow-strike to the door frame.

The guard leaned over as he walked by, "Keep it down in there, scum."

Arken punched the door one more time out of spite before turning around and walking further into the cell. He flexed his hands open and closed several times before running one hand through his matte black hair. He worked his arms around to relieve some tension, emphasizing his chiseled physique. Arken preferred to go shirtless rather than tolerate the itchy sackcloth tunics the prisoners were issued.

Fynix shook his head as his friend walked by, "Arken, will you please calm down?"

The Dunmer thief leaned on his arm against the far wall and hung his head, "Easy for you to say. You haven't lived your whole life dodging jails."

The mage looked over at him, "Look, Ark, I don't enjoy being in here any more than you do, but there's also nothing I can do about it. So you might as well make the most of what you have."

Arken turned and barked at his friend, "Well, maybe we have nothing to make the most of!"

Fynix shook his head as he stood and walked over to Arken, "Ark, I understand that you hate being caged like this, but I don't think that accounts for why you're so restless right now. What's wrong?" Arken only responded with a silent glare.

The Dunmer mage put his hand on his friend's shoulder and looked him in the eye, "Arken, it's me. You can talk to me. What's bothering you?"

Arken finally broke Fynix's gaze, looking away at the dark stone wall. He stood silent for several more moments before his shoulders heaved in a deep sigh. He walked to his bed and sat down on it, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his forehead.

"I can still see her, Nix. I can still see her just lying there, bleeding on the floor."

"So that's what this is all about." Fynix nodded understandingly, "Merrenda."

Arken gave a resigned nod, "She's haunting me, Nix. Those beautiful eyes of hers are haunting my every waking moment. I miss her so much." He breathed a sharp sigh and looked up at his friend, "It should've been me, Fynix. That arrow was aimed at me. It should've killed me; not Merrenda."

Fynix sat down next to Arken, "When I was a boy, one day, my brother and I were playing in our father's alchemy shop. He'd told us many times never to play in there, but we did anyway. We were having fun, until I knocked over a shelf full of expensive sorcery potions. It broke about half the bottles. We both knew father was going to be furious with me when he found out. But just before I could tell him, my brother came in the room and said that he'd knocked the potions over. He knew that father would be more lenient with him than he would with me, because I'm the oldest. Father gave him a good tongue-lashing and grounded him for a couple of weeks. If it'd been me, the cost would have come out of my earnings, and those were expensive potions." He looked at Arken, "My brother did me a favor that I'll never forget. You know why? Because my brother loves me." The mage leaned closer to him, "Merrenda did the same favor for you because she loved you so much, Arken. She felt the same way you do now. She would rather have died in your place than stand by and watch you die."

The Dunmer thief stared ahead blankly as he shook his head slowly, "It's just so cruel, to let me hold her as she died in my arms." He took an unsteady breath before looking at Fynix, "Right before she died, she said to me 'Live free, my beloved.' I can't even fulfill her last request because I'm stuck in this fetcher's stink hole."

Fynix smiled and nudged Arken's arm, "Someday we'll get out of here, Arken. Then things will be different. You'll see."

Arken shook his head slowly again, "I wish I knew how you always keep such a bright outlook on things, Nix."

The mage simply shrugged in return, "Well, I just try to ignore the bad parts. They say 'ignorance is bliss', right?"

"Awe, what's the matter?" An all too familiar voice came from the cell across from theirs, "Is the little Dunmer boy crying about his little dead wifey again? You're pathetic, you worm."

"Shut up, Dreth," Arken snapped toward the other cell, "Or they'll be keeping me in here longer for killing you."

"Oh, they'll be keeping you in here long enough, whelp. Don't you worry about that. You'll have plenty of time in here before the end." Valen Dreth leaned on his cell door, "Oh, didn't you know? You're going to _die_ in here, Dunmer; _both_ of you. You're both going to die." He looked up the stairs when a noise echoed down into the hall, "Hey! You hear that? The guards are coming. For _you_." He let out a maniacal cackle as he walked back into the darkness of his own cell.

Fynix shook his head as Arken stood up, "Just ignore him, Arken." He paused briefly before looking at his friend, "You know, maybe we should…"

"Quiet!" Arken turned his head to listen to the noises coming down the stairs, "We've got some activity here. Someone's coming down." Fynix stood up and crowded around the door to listen. They caught a portion of conversation that was progressively coming closer.

They heard an older man's voice first, "My sons…They're dead, aren't they?"

A younger-sounding woman answered him, "We don't know that, sire. The messenger only said they were attacked."

"No. They're dead. I know it."

A quartet of people came down the prison stairs, three wearing an ornate type of armor and an older man wearing royal robes.

The short and armored woman appeared to be the one in charge, "My job right now is the get you to safety." The group stopped at Arken and Fynix's cell and the woman's eyes widened with surprise when she looked in, "What're these prisoners doing here? This cell is supposed to be off limits."

One of the soldiers looked at her and shrugged, "Usual mix up with the watch? I…"

"Never mind. Get that gate open." She looked into the cell at Arken and Fynix, "Stand back, prisoners. We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way."

"You, prisoners!" One soldier, an Imperial, pointed at them, "Stand aside. Over by the window. Stay out of the way, and you won't get hurt."

Fynix took several steps back while Arken turned with a sarcastic huff, "Well, since you asked so _nicely_…" They both stood over beneath the window, keeping their hands visible to avoid suspicion. Once they were clear of the door, the soldier produced a key and opened it. They filed into the cell, but the old man stopped and stared at the two Dunmer.

He pointed a bony finger at them, "You…I've seen you two." He motioned them closer, "Let me see your faces." Arken and Fynix gave each other a nervous glance before cautiously stepping into the light from the window.

The old man's eyes widened, "You are the ones from my dreams." He looked away from them, "Then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength."

Fynix looked around and shrugged, "Wait a minute. What's going on here?"

"Assassins attacked my sons, and I'm next." The old man looked at the soldiers around him, "My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route." He motioned to the cell around them, "By chance, that escape route leads through your cell."

The Dunmer mage furrowed his brow, "Who are you?"

The old man nodded respectfully to them, "I am your emperor, Uriel Septim. By the grace of the gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler."

Fynix's eyes widened as both he and Arken dropped to one knee before the Emporer.

The Emperor shook his head, "Please, there is no need to stand on ceremony at this time." He made an upward motion, ordering Arken and Fynix back to their feet, "You both are citizens of Tamriel, and you too shall serve her in your own ways."

Arken glanced at Fynix briefly, "You do know why we're in here, right?"

The Emperor shrugged casually, "Perhaps the gods placed you here so that we may meet. As for what you have done; it does not matter. That is not what you'll be remembered for."

Before Fynix could speak, Arken cut his hand through the air, "I make my own destiny, and neither the divines nor the daedra have any say in that. I go my own way."

The Emperor simply nodded, "So do we all, but what path can be avoided whose end is fixed by the almighty gods."

"Please, sire, we must keep moving." The woman Blade urged the Emperor on as she walked over next to the bed and pushed an inconspicuous stone in the wall. It sank inward and mechanisms in the wall started working as the bed sank down and the wall opened into a cavern tunnel.

Arken's jaw dropped and he pointed at the door, "You mean I've been sleeping six inches from an escape door all along and never even knew it?"

Fynix just stared, "There's some bitter irony for you."

The Blade captain ignored their comments and turned to walk down the tunnel, "Better not close this one. There's no way to open it from the other side." The Emperor and his Blades all moved to enter the tunnel.

The rearguard Blade, a Redguard, snickered as he passed Arken and Fynix, "Looks like this is your lucky day. Just stay out of our way."

Fynix watched them go down the tunnel, "Do we follow them?"

Arken worked his fingers under his wrist irons and tripped the locks to open the cuffs, "Does a guar poop in the woods? I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Come on." He tossed the irons aside as he and Fynix headed into the dark tunnel following the Imperial entourage. They followed the group around a corner and down some stairs before coming to an open room.

They struck when they entered the chamber. Hooded figures wearing glossy black armor jumped down from several high alcoves in the walls brandishing weapons. The Blades all stood to the Emperor's defense, drawing their swords and forming a wall in front of him. They charged forward, taking them head on. Arken stepped back into the shadows and Fynix by the collar of his shirt to drag him in with him. They were both unarmed and unarmored; no condition to be facing trained assassins.

The fight was short, but messy. The captain felled one assassin before another came from behind and struck her across the back of the head with a mace. The two remaining Blades took the rest of the assassins from the flanks and eliminated them without further incident.

The Redguard Blade sheathed his sword and turned to the Emperor, "Are you alright, sire? We're clear for now."

The Emperor nodded to the captain's body, "Captain Renault?"

The Blade shook his head, "She's dead. I'm sorry, sire, but we have to keep moving."

Arken released Fynix's collar as he stepped out and looked at one of the assassin's bodies. The assassin was wearing a blood red hooded robe, which he found odd considering that just a moment ago he'd been dressed head to toe in armor.

The Imperial Blade walked over to a grated door and looked back as he unlatched it, "How could they be waiting for us here?"

The Redguard shook his head, "Don't know, but it's too late to go back now." He looked at the Emperor, "Don't worry, sire. We will get you out of here."

The other Blade nodded, "They won't be the first to underestimate the Blades." He turned around and pushed the door open, "I'll take point. Let's move."

The Emperor followed the first Blade, but the Redguard turned to point at Arken and Fynix, "You stay here, prisoners. Don't try to follow us." Without another word, he turned and walked through the door, closing it behind him.

Fynix looked around the room they were in, "So now what? We can't follow them and the only other way leads back to the prison."

Arken started searching the bodies, "I'm not giving up a chance for sunlit freedom when I'm this close. We just have to find a way out of here." He finished searching the body the Blade captain and held something up, "Now we're talking."

Fynix turned and looked, "What's that?"

The thief spoke as he fastened the belt and scabbard around his waist, "If my knowledge of weapons serves me well, which it always does, it's an Akaviri katana. The Akavir knew how to make some good weapons in their day." He drew the katana and slashed it through the air a few times, "And this blade, in particular, is very well cared for." He picked up a steel shortsword and tossed it to Fynix, "I found this on her, too. It's not a longsword, but it's better than nothing."

"It'll do for now." The mage caught the weapon and fastened around his waist, "You wouldn't happen to have found a map or a key on her anywhere, did you?"

Arken shrugged as he stood, "Nothing along those lines. But those assassins got in here somehow. Their entrance can be our exit."

Both or their heads turned when they heard the sound of grinding stone. Something on the other side of the wall was quickly making its way through. The stones bulged outward as it pushed. Arken and Fynix both drew their respective weapons. They didn't know what it was and they wanted to be ready for it.

Both Arken and Fynix were visibly relieved and somewhat disappointed when the stone wall gave way only to reveal a pair of rats that came through the hole. The rats were hostile, but they were practically no threat. One jumped at Arken, but he casually raised his sword in defense. The rat bit down in the blade and fell to the ground, chomping its jaws to get the metal taste out of its mouth. Arken quickly ended its life by staking the weapon straight down through its neck. The other rat never even got that far. Before it could attack, Fynix lit off a small fireball that fried the rat where it stood.

Arken sheathed his sword and motioned toward the hole the rats made, "There's our exit. I'll lead." They proceeded cautiously through the hole, but the only thing to worry about in the chamber beyond was another rat. Arken took the time to remove some old leather armor from a dry old skeleton lying in one corner of the room. It was still in good condition, if not a little rough, making it good for some basic armor protection. Fynix found an old iron cuirass with greaves and some boots in an old crate nearby that he donned for his own protection. Arken also recovered a rusty old iron bow and some dirty arrows that were still usable, as well as an iron sword for each of them. A little more properly equipped now, the two Dunmer carefully made their way through the chambers and caverns. The only resistance they faced was the occasional rat until they happened upon a small group of goblins, but the dirty creatures were little threat to a skilled swordsman and a mage who could throw fire from his hands. After dealing with the goblin threat, they proceeded further through the dark caverns and passages. They came to a ledge overlooking a larger ruin chamber with a sunken pathway through the middle.

"Wait." Arken held his hand out to stop Fynix. He pointed into the chamber below them and then to his ear as the signal to listen. They waited silently as noises in the halls became voices and drew closer.

The first was an Imperial voice, "…find a defensible spot and protect the Emperor until help arrives."

The second voice was an irritated Redguard, "Help? What makes you think help will get here before more of those assassins? We need to get the Emperor out of here." Arken peered over the ledge to find the Emperor and his two remaining Blades moving through the chamber below.

As if on cue, several more armored assassins jumped down from higher places in the walls. The Blades drew their swords and moved to protect the Emperor, but they were outnumbered two to one. Arken and Fynix glanced at each other, knowing that they needed help. Arken drew back an arrow while Fynix unleashed a fireball. The fireball hit one of the assassins, engulfing him and throwing him against a wall, while Arken's arrow pierced the chest of another. Arken noticed the air around the assassin rippled and his armor vanished when he died. Some kind of conjured armor maybe? The Imperial Blade finished off the assassin he was fighting and started looking around when he noticed Arken and Fynix up on the ledge.

He pointed at them and started walking toward them, brandishing his blade, "Blast! It's those prisoners again. Kill them. They might be working with the assassins."

Arken was about to stand to run back into the caverns when the Emperor held up his hand, "No. They are not of them. They can help us." He looked up at them, "They must help us."

"As you wish, sire." The Blade sheathed his sword immediately upon hearing the order.

The Emperor nodded and motioned for Arken and Fynix to come down, "Come closer. I'd prefer not to have to shout."

The two friends gave each other nervous glances before jumping down to the floor and approaching the Emperor.

He looked them both in the eye, "They cannot understand why I trust you. They've not seen what I have seen." His eyes darted away for a moment, "How can I explain? Listen. You know the Nine? How they guide our fates with an invisible hand?"

Fynix nodded, "The Nine guide and protect us."

"Yes." The Emperor returned the nod and looked at Arken, "And you?"

The Dunmer thief frowned bitterly, "I'm not on good terms with the gods right now."

"A shame, that." The Emperor looked at them both, "I've served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles in the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks, each a fire, and every one a sign. I know these stars well, and I wonder, which signs marked your births?"

Fynix shrugged, "The Apprentice."

The Emperor looked at Arken and he smirked, "The Thief."

He nodded and continued, "The signs I read mark the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."

Arken glanced at Fynix briefly before looking at the Emperor, "What about us?"

The Emperor smiled and shook his head, "Your stars are not mine. Today, the Thief and the Apprentice shall be your guides on the road to destiny."

Fynix furrowed his brow, "Aren't you afraid to die?"

The Emperor shook his head again, "No trophies of my triumphs precede me, but I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour. In this I am blessed to see the hour of my death…" His eyes went misty and he looked up, "…to face my apportioned fate, then fall."

Arken arched an eyebrow, "Can you see our fates?"

The Emperor shook his head once more, "My dreams grant me no opinions of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death. But in your faces, I behold the sun's companions. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and with the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied."

Arken looked around the Emperor's shoulder to the door behind him, "Where are we going from here?"

The old man breathed a shallow sigh, "I go to my grave. A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me yet for a while. Then we must part." He nodded to them and turned away toward the door.

The Redguard tapped Arken's shoulder to get their attention, "I'm Baurus of the Emperor's Blades. Since you're here, you might as well make yourselves useful." He lit a torch and handed it to Fynix, "You carry this torch and stick close to the Emperor." He pointed at Arken, "You, up front with Glenroy. Can you wield a sword at all?"

Arken smirked and rolled his eyes, "Can _I_ wield a sword? I'm insulted." He turned around to take his position.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'." Baurus looked around the room, then at them, "Just stick close and let us do our job. You'll be all right." The group advanced cautiously through the dark passages, the light from Fynix's torch only illuminating a few feet in front of the Glenroy and Arken. They didn't get far before encountering more assassins. Fynix lent his magic while Arken lent his blade in the Emperor's defense. They dispatched the first group of assassins easily, but couldn't go much further before encountering a second group. The Blades took them head on and eliminated them quickly. Once the threat had been neutralized, the party made their way through a small wooden door to a large chamber with descending stairs and several columns.

"Hold up." Glenroy held up his hand, "I don't like this. Let me take a look." The Imperial advanced further into the room and Arken drew his sword. He looked around, but couldn't see far into the darkness. He had a bad feeling about this.

Glenroy waved everyone forward, "Looks clear. We're almost through to the sewers." Arken kept his blade in hand as the group made there way deeper into the room. The torch started to flicker before Fynix relit it with a quick burst of flame.

The group came to a metal gate and Glenroy pushed on it, rewarded with only a rattle. He looked at the gate and pushed again, getting only a metallic clanking for his efforts. He examined the lock and cursed as he drew his sword.

"The gate is barred from the other side. A trap!"

Baurus drew his sword and looked around the room, pointing out a small alcove, "What about that side passage back there?"

Glenroy nodded, "Worth a try. Let's go." The Blades led the way with Arken and Fynix bringing up the rear as they moved to a thin passage off to the side. They walked in and looked around, but found no other tunnels or doors out of the room.

Baurus looked at Glenroy, "It's a dead end. What's your call, sir?"

The senior Blade started looking around, "I don't know. I don't see any good options here." A sound of voices and weapons came from the room they'd just left and Glenroy turned to look, "They're behind us!" He looked at the Emperor, "Wait here, sire."

Baurus looked at Arken and Fynix, "Wait here with the Emperor. Guard him with your lives." With a shout of "For the Emperor!" both Blades charged out of the room to engage the assassins. Arken and Fynix waited as they heard shouts and clashing metal coming down the passage. As they waited, the Emperor became more and more restless. He started breathing heavily and looking around at the room as though he recognized it.

Finally, he looked at Arken and Fynix, "I can go no further. You two alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings." He pulled off the large red gem hanging from his neck and thrust it into Fynix's hands, "Take the Amulet. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son." He leaned closer to them, "Find him, and close shut the Jaws of Oblivion."

As the Emperor stepped back, the stone wall behind him opened to reveal another assassin brandishing a dagger. Before the two Dunmer could react, he grabbed the Emperor's shoulder and sunk the blade deep into his back, ripping it out before turning his attention to the two in front of him. Arken half-sworded his weapon and raised it to block an overhand strike. He spun to slide the blade off his own and continued around to smash the pommel into the side of the assassin's head. He staggered to his right, falling right into Fynix's low slash. The blade played across his unarmored side and he collapsed dead on the floor, the air rippling and his armor vanishing as he fell. Baurus rushed into the room mere moments after, his armor spattered with blood and his shield broken.

He dropped his sword and broken shield and fell to his knees over the Emperor's body, "No…Talos save us." He hung his head, "We've failed…_I've_ failed…The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are _dead_." He leaned forward to look at the body and looked up at Arken and Fynix, "The Amulet! Where's the Amulet of Kings. It's not on the Emperor's body."

Fynix held up the Amulet to show him, "He gave it to me."

Baurus furrowed his brow, his eyes darting between them for a moment, "Strange. He saw something in you two. Trusted you." He looked at the body, "They say it's the Dragon blood that flows through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men." He stood up and looked at them, "The Amulet of Kings is a sacred symbol of the Empire. Most people think of the Red Dragon Crown, but that's just jewelry. The Amulet has power. Only a true heir of the blood can wear it they say. He must have given it to you for a reason. Did he say why?"

Arken glanced at the Amulet and shrugged, "He said to give it to Jauffre, whoever that is."

Baurus' eyes narrowed, "Jauffre? He said that? Why?"

"He said that there's another heir."

The Redguard nodded, "Nothing I ever heard about, but Jauffre would be the one to know. He's the grandmaster of my order, although you would not think so to meet him. He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory, near the city of Chorrol."

Arken looked at tunnel the assassin came through, "You know how we can get there from here?"

Baurus looked around, "First, you two need to get out of here. Through that door must lead to the entrance to the sewers past the locked gate. It's where we were headed. It's a secret way out of the Imperial City, or it was _supposed_ to be secret." He reached into a pocket on his belt and pulled out a key that he handed to Arken, "Here. You'll need this key for the last door into the sewers."

Arken accepted the key and Fynix arched an eyebrow, "Sewers?"

The Blade nodded, "There are rats and goblins down there. But from what I've seen of you two, you're both experienced warriors." He pointed at Fynix and Arken respectively, "Battlemage and Assassin. Am I right?"

Fynix nodded, "Yes, that's right. I'm a battlemage."

"I thought so." Baurus looked at Arken, "And you?"

Arken started glancing around the room and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "Actually, I'm a…" He cleared his throat, "…a thief."

Baurus' eyes widened, "Really? I would never have guessed. Still, I don't think either of you will have any trouble with rats or goblins."

The Dunmer thief nodded, "What's after the sewers?"

Baurus pointed at the red gem in Fynix's hand, "You must get the Amulet to Jauffre. Take no chances, but proceed to Weynon Priory immediately. Got it?"

Both Dunmer nodded before Fynix spoke up, "What about you?"

Baurus looked down at the body at his feet, "I'll stay here to guard the Emperor's body, and make sure no one follows you. You'd better get moving. May Talos guide you." The Dunmer pair was about to leave when Baurus spoke up again, "By the way, thanks for recovering Capt. Renault's sword. I'll see that it's given a place of honor in the halls of the Blades."

Arken shrugged as he untied the Akaviri katana from his back and handed it to Baurus. He had switched to an iron longsword earlier and was planning on selling the katana, that is before Baurus preempted his plans. The two Dunmer bid farewell to Baurus and left the room through the secret door the assassin used.

Arken held a torch up to light the passage and looked at Fynix, "Can you believe this? He's trusting a couple of convicts to transport the most valuable relic in Tamriel."

"Maybe the hand of Fate is working here somehow." Fynix shrugged and looked at the Amulet of Kings, "Maybe I should wear this under my armor for safekeeping." He fastened it around his neck, but as soon as he let go, it unlatched on its own and slipped off. Arken lunged forward to catch it before it hit the ground.

He stood and handed it back to Fynix, "He said something about only a true heir of the blood being able to wear it, Nix. You have a 'Plan B' for carrying that thing?"

Fynix accepted the Amulet and slid it into a pouch, "I guess I'll just have to pocket it, then." The two friends made their way down the passage, unlocking the door to the sewers and delving into a chamber of some of the most rank and disgusting scents imaginable. The rats and goblins were hardly a sturdy workout for two experienced warriors, as Baurus suspected. After several minutes of navigating the sewer passages, they finally saw the light of day beaming through the final tunnel.

Arken opened the gate and squinted in the harsh sunlight. The only times he'd seen it for the past year had been during the open yard times in the prison, and those times didn't come often. He raised his arm to shield his eyes and looked around. They were standing on the beach of a large lake, Lake Rumare if he remembered correctly, with a large Ayleid ruin across the lake from them.

Fynix stepped into the sun and raised his arm to block it, "So where do we go from here?"

Arken pointed at the pouch where Fynix kept the Amulet, "You head to Chorrol and get that Amulet to Jauffre. Just get to the main road and follow it northeast. There are road signs at most of the intersections if you get turned around." Arken turned and started heading the other way.

Fynix looked after him and furrowed his brow, "Wait a minute. Where are you going?"

Arken turned back to face him, jerking his thumb up the hill to the tall tower in the center of the island, "To the City. I'm going to ask around, see if I can get some information." Arken's nose wrinkled when he smelled something and he sniffed his leather armor, "And a bath."


	3. Chapter II

II

Arken slipped through the big gate with a large crowd of people into the Imperial City Market District. He'd been to the Imperial City a number of times when he lived in Cyrodill before, but a lot changes in forty years. The overall layout of the City had changed greatly in the last four decades. Still, it wasn't hard to find what he needed. Arken found an inn to settle in to for a while and get cleaned up, as well as a few shops to sell the extra items he found in the sewers. He found a place to sell the old, dingy leather armor he was using and replaced it with a full suit of used chain mail, as well as a smithy to replace the old iron sword and bow with brand new steel weapons. Having just escaped from prison, Arken didn't have much money to work with, but he had pulled a few coin purses off the bodies of the assassins in the prison passages. Combining that with a little bit of careful pickpocketing gave the young Dunmer thief more than enough money to accomplish his purposes.

Arken stepped into the Merchant's Inn, where he was staying, and sidled over to sit down at the bar.

The barkeep, Velus Hosidius, walked over to Arken and wiped off the bar in front of him, "What's your poison, friend?"

Arken shook his head, "I'll just have some water. Thanks." Hosidius brought him a clean cup and poured some water for him.

The young Dunmer nodded to him and leaned forward on the bar, "Maybe you can help me. I'm new in the city. Is there anything going on these days that I should know about?"

Hosidius nodded, "Everyone's talking about the assassination, of course." He reached under the bar and pulled out a rolled up paper, "Here. Take my copy of the new Black Horse Courier. Go ahead. Keep it."

"Thank you." Arken accepted the paper and unrolled it, starting at the top. He read down through the article, confirming his suspicions. The Watch had ruled out the Dark Brotherhood or some other assassin guild, but didn't have any other leads. They were completely clueless as to who was behind the Emperor's death. He finished reading the article, quenching his thirst with the first cup of clean water he'd had in a year. Arken dropped a few coins on the bar as he stood and left the inn. He looked up and down the streets, looking for a beggar or two. The poor usually had their finger on the pulse of the town. Since people often ignored a beggar's presence, they often spoke of sensitive information around them, making them valuable sources. If Arken could find some, he might be able to learn some things that normal channels couldn't. He started down the street, scanning the alleys as he passed them.

It didn't take Arken long to figure out that he was being followed. Two people, an Altmer and an Imperial, were keeping him in sight since he left the inn. He moved through the gate into the Elven Gardens District, but the two men were close on his heels. Arken didn't know what they were after, but he knew the best way to find out. He turned into an alley and ran about halfway down before ducking aside behind a corner. He quietly drew his sword and held it behind his back to keep it from glinting in the noon sun. As they approached, Arken closed his eyes and listened. His pursuers' footsteps and voices gave away their positions. They rounded into the alley and stopped.

Arken heard the Imperial speak, "Where'd he go?"

"I don't know, but I saw him go in here." The Altmer took several steps into the alley, "If he's in here somewhere, this would be the best place to eliminate him."

Arken's eyes popped open. Whoever these guys were, they were out to kill him, and that was all he needed to hear. He relaxed as they came closer, preparing for a surprise attack. They approached and Arken sprang his trap. He jumped out into the alley and swung, but the Altmer leading the way proved quicker than he'd anticipated. The High Elf ducked under the swing and took several steps back. Arken steeled himself for a fight, but he didn't see any weapons on them, making him wonder how they intended to eliminate him.

The two assailants answered Arken's question by raising a hand into the air and a burst of yellow light shining from their fists. The air around them shimmered and rippled, encompassing their bodies in a cloud of red mist. When the cloud faded, both attackers were adorned head to toe in a familiar glossy black armor. Arken's eyes widened when he saw it. These two were working for the assassins that killed the Emperor. They brandished conjured weapons, one holding a sword, the other a mace.

The Altmer wielding the sword attacked first. He came in with a cross sidearm strike that Arken whipped his blade around to block. At the same time, the Imperial came around his ally and swung with his mace. Arken stepped aside, ducking under and around the crossed blades and letting the Imperial's mace harmlessly swing through the air. He cranked the swords around to free himself from the blade lock and spun around to strike sidearm at the Imperial. He caught the blade on the guard of his mace, but was still staggered by the force of the blow. Arken swung again, but the Altmer stepped forward and parried the attack. As the Altmer was cranking Arken's sword around, attempting to disarm him, the young Dunmer lunged forward with a punch to his forehead. The High Elf took the full force of the blow to his armored mask and staggered back against the alley wall. Arken stepped back and shook his hand to get rid of the buzzing in his knuckles. Whatever that armor was made of, it was very strong.

The Imperial charged at Arken with his mace held high. Arken caught the weapon on the guard of his sword, cranked it down and around to sidestep the Imperial, and drove his elbow into the back of his head. The Imperial staggered forward and added insult to injury by bashing his head on a nearby tree. The High Elf struck again, coming in with a hard sidearm swing. Arken ducked beneath the blade, letting it split some bark off the tree he was standing in front of. The blade sank deep into the wood and the Altmer jerked hard trying to get it out. Arken stood up from his crouch with an uppercut to the Altmer's chin and an upward hook of his arm beneath the High Elf's arms to rip his hands from the blade's handle. One of the Altmer's hands gave way, but the other stayed on the blade only to allow his elbow to snap backward with a sickening crack. He screamed and staggered away from his lodged weapon, holding his arm bent back at an odd angle. Arken pressed the attack. He kicked the sword in the tree to loosen it, grabbed the weapon and yanked it free, and crossed his sword over his opponent's sword in a scissor cross on the Altmer's chest. He didn't stay there long before scissoring the weapons together to slash across the High Elf's chest. He fell back away from Arken, his armor vanishing in a red cloud as he died. The conjured sword in Arken's hand disappeared in a cloud of dust.

The Imperial had recovered his from his previous ineptitude and attacked Arken again. He came in behind the Dunmer to smash in his head with the mace. Arken raised his sword behind his head to catch the mace and levered himself around to face his attacker. He cranked the weapons around and retaliated with a cross slash that played across an unarmored spot on the Imperial's arm. He reeled from the strike, giving Arken a chance to attack again. He used his momentum from his previous attack to spin around and drive the tip of his sword into the Imperial's shoulder. Arken pushed the Imperial back until he hit a tree behind him and he felt the blade's tip stick into the wood, pinning the Imperial in place with the blade. His conjured armor and weapon vanished in a cloud of red, but the wearer wasn't dead yet, which is exactly how Arken wanted it. He had questions, and this Imperial had answers.

Arken turned the blade in the wound to put some pain to his questioning, "Who are you?"

The Imperial spit out some blood and grinned, "We are your undoing?"

Arken turned the blade again, causing the Imperial to scream, "You didn't answer me. Who are you?"

The Imperial replied through gritted teeth, "We…are the dawn of a new age; an age that unbelievers such as you will never see."

Arken could see that he was getting nowhere, "Why did you kill the Emperor?"

The Imperial's eyes widened maniacally, "I will never betray the Master." He held up his fist and a magical flame flashed from his palm, "Till the coming of the Dawn."

The Dunmer thief leaned away as the flame consumed the Imperial and left his corpse burning on the tree. Arken shook his head as he yanked his sword out of the tree and let the smoking body fall to the ground. This was no mere assassin's guild. This was something much deeper if these men were willing to kill themselves for it. He wiped off his sword and sheathed it as he returned to the main avenue and headed for the main city gate in the Talos Plaza District. There was more here than meets the eye. He had to make sure Fynix was safe.

* * *

Fynix continued walking down the road until he finally saw some buildings around the bend that had to be Weynon Priory. With his destination finally in sight, he quickened his pace as he looked out at the horizon. The sun was setting and it was starting to get dark, but fortunately he didn't have much further to go. He walked up in front of the priory house and looked around, finding no one in sight. There were lights in the upper windows of the house, so there were definitely signs of life, but no one was around. Fynix walked up to the priory house and knocked hard on the door. He looked back to check the path while he waited. He had a bad feeling that he was being followed, but he never saw anyone along the road behind him.

The priory house door opened and an older man wearing black robes with a tonsure haircut answered the door, "Blessings of the Nine on you, stranger. I am Prior Maborel. Can I help you?"

Fynix nodded, "I hope so. Is there a man named Jauffre here?"

The Prior nodded and stepped aside as he opened the door wider, "He's upstairs. Go ahead."

"Thank you." The mage nodded to him as he entered. Inside, the priory house was well cared for. There was a clean table off to the left and a divided staircase directly in front of the door. Fynix ascended the stairs and turned right at the landing, entering a reading area with several desks and a table at the far end of the room. Sitting at that table was a Bretish looking man who Fynix could only assume was Jauffre. He was an older man, probably in his mid-to-late fifties, with balding white hair gathered back in a small ponytail. Fynix walked up to stand in front of the table, but the man's nose was buried in a book.

Fynix leaned toward him, "Excuse me."

The man looked up from his book and nodded, "Good evening, stranger. I'm Brother Jauffre. How can I help you?"

Fynix nodded when he confirmed Jauffre's identity, "So you're the man I'm looking for. The Emperor sent me to find you."

Jauffre furrowed his brow, "Emperor Uriel? Do you know something about his death?"

"Unfortunately, I was there when he was killed."

The response caused Jauffre to frown, "You'd better explain yourself. Now."

Fynix held up his hands defensively, "I had nothing to do with the Emperor's death, if that's what you want to know. He told me to bring you the Amulet of Kings."

Jauffre canted his head, "You brought me the Amulet of Kings? This cannot be. Let me see it." Fynix reached into his pocket and took out the large glittering gem, which he handed to Jauffre.

The older man carefully accepted the Amulet, "By the Nine! This _is_ the Amulet of Kings." He looked up at Fynix, "Who are you? How did you get this? What do you know of the Emperor's death?" Fynix pulled up a chair and recounted the whole story, starting with who he was and that he and Arken were in prison and ending with the Emperor's death.

"…And after that, Baurus sent us to find you. Arken is in the Imperial City to dig up some more information on who these assassins are, and I came to find you."

Jauffre sat thinking for a moment before leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, "As unlikely as your story sounds, I believe you. Only the strange destiny of Uriel Septim could have brought you to me carrying the Amulet of Kings."

Fynix breathed a sigh of relief and sat back in his chair, "Something that puzzles me. Right before he was killed, the Emperor said something about 'Close shut the Jaws of Oblivion'. Would you know what he was referring to?"

Jauffre shook his head slowly, "His meaning is unclear to me, as well." He thought for a moment before continuing, "The Emperor seemed to perceive some sort of threat from the demonic world of Oblivion. The Prince of Destruction, Mehrunes Dagon, is one of the lords of Oblivion. But the mortal world is protected from the daedra of Oblivion by magical barriers."

Fynix furrowed his brow, "Well, how can Oblivion threaten us then?"

Jauffre shrugged, "I'm not sure. Only the Emperors truly understand the meaning behind of the rituals of coronation." He looked at the Amulet in his hand, "The Amulet of Kings is ancient. St. Alessia herself received it from the gods. It is a holy relic of great power. When an Emperor is crowned, he uses the Amulet to light the Dragonfires at the Temple of the One in the Imperial City. With the Emperor dead and no new heir crowned, the Temple of the One will be dark for the first time in centuries." He thought for a moment before continuing, "It may be that the Dragonfires protected us from a threat that only the Emperor was aware of."

Fynix nodded, "If the threat is from Oblivion, then who are the men who assassinated the Emperor?"

"They're some sort of cultists."

Both Jauffre and Fynix looked back to where the voice came from to find Arken walking into the room.

Fynix stood as his friend approached him, "Arken? What are you doing here?"

"A couple of assassins tried to kill me in the Imperial City. I'm almost positive that they were members of some kind of cult. I've only seen that kind of fanaticism when dealing with cultists."

Fynix looked back at Jauffre, "Where are my manners? Jauffre, this is my friend, Arken Dralkes. Arken, this is Jauffre."

The thief leaned forward to shake Jauffre's hand, "Pardon my saying so, but you don't look much like the grandmaster of the Blades."

Jauffre nodded at the comment, "You wonder to find me here? Discretion is our watchword. Only a few of us have the honor of serving publicly in the Imperial Guard."

Fynix sat down again and looked up at Arken, "Jauffre believes that the Emperor may have known of some kind of threat from Oblivion and that these cultists were heralds of it."

"An invasion from Oblivion?" Arken rolled his eyes, "Now I've heard of everything."

Jauffre shook his head, "The Emperor would not have gone to such lengths to secure the Amulet if he did not believe it was dire."

Arken pulled up a chair of his own, "He said something about you knowing where his last son is."

Jauffre nodded and leaned his elbows on the table again, "I am one of the few who know of his existence. Many years ago I was the captain of the Emperor's bodyguards, the Blades. One night, Uriel called me into his private chambers. A baby boy lay sleeping in a basket. Uriel told me to deliver him somewhere safe. He never told me anything else about the baby, but I knew it was his son. From time to time he would ask about the child's progress. Now it seems that this illegitimate son is the heir to the Septim throne, if he yet lives."

Arken glanced at Fynix and nodded, "Where is he?"

"His name is Martin. He serves Akatosh in the chapel in the city of Kvatch, south of here." Jauffre leaned forward on the table and looked at them both, "You must go to Kvatch and find him at once. If the enemy is aware of his existence, as seems likely, he is in terrible danger."

Arken nodded again, "Then we ride for Kvatch."

Fynix stood from his seat, "Yes. We'll bring him back here and then figure out what to do next."

Jauffre returned the nod, "Please hurry. And do let me know if there's anything you need. My resources here are limited, but I will help in any way I can."

Fynix looked at Arken as they stood and turned to leave, "I hope you know where Kvatch is, because I'm clueless."

Arken rolled his eyes at his friend, "I was born in this province, remember? I know it well enough to get us there."

Prior Maborel got their attention before they could leave, "I know you are on an important mission for the Blades. Please, if you need horses, take two of ours from the priory stable."

Arken nodded to him, "Thanks, but I've got a horse." He looked at Fynix, "You could use one, though. Let's go."

Fynix looked at Arken as they left the house and rounded the corner toward the stable, "When did you get a horse?"

"I made a quick visit to the Black Waterside Stables of Cheydinhal before coming out here. You won't find a better horse than a Cheydinhal Black." As they approached the stable, Arken pursed his lips and piped out a shrill, ear-splitting whistle. A moment later, a large, matte black horse came trotting out of the stable and stopped in front of Arken.

Fynix raised his brow, "And I suppose you taught him to do that, too."

Arken mounted his horse and shook his head, "'She', actually. Her name is Eclipse. And the stable hand taught me the whistle she responds to." He looked back at the stable and pointed to one of the horses, "That Chestnut should work for you. Mount up and let's ride." The journey would have been a lot quicker if Arken hadn't needed to give Fynix a crash course in horseback riding. The poor deprived mage had never ridden an animal in his life, and the horse was a new concept to him. Fortunately, it didn't take him long to catch on, and the Dunmer pair was soon riding full gallop for Kvatch. They rode through the night and into the morning, down and around the Imperial City and out past Skingrad toward Kvatch.

As the Dunmer pair rode on to Kvatch, they were about to turn north from the Gold Road onto the dirt trail that led to Kvatch when they saw someone running toward them. It was an Altmer, running as fast as he could. Arken frowned when he saw. What was this guy running from?

The Altmer slowed down as he passed them and waved to them, "Come on! Run while there's still time! The guard still holds the road, but it's only a matter of time before they're overwhelmed."

Arken glanced at Fynix and shook his head, "What're you talking about? Run from what?"

The Altmer stopped and looked at them with surprised eyes, "God's blood! You don't know, do you?" He motioned up the hill toward the city, "Daedra overran Kvatch last night. There were glowing portals outside the walls. Gates to Oblivion itself!" Arken and Fynix looked up the hill to see pillars of dark smoke billowing from within the Kvatch city walls.

The High Elf continued, "There was this huge creature, something out of a nightmare, came right over the walls, blasting fire. They swarmed around it…killing."

Arken shook his head in disbelief, "The whole city can't be destroyed."

The Altmer jerked his thumb back up the hill, "Go and see for yourself. Kvatch is a smoking ruin." He fanned his arm toward some campfires up the road, "We're all that's left. Do you understand me? Everyone else is dead!"

Fynix furrowed his brow at the Altmer, "How did you get out?"

He pointed up the road, "It was Savlian Matius…some of the other guards. They cut their way out, right through the city gates." He looked back, his eyes filling with terror, "Savlian says they can hold the road. No…No! I don't believe him! Nothing can stop them! If you'd seen it, you'd know! I'm getting out of here before it's too late. They'll be here any minute, I'm telling you. Run while you can!" Without another word, the Altmer turned and started running down the road toward Skingrad.

Arken watched him run before looking at Fynix, "Let's get up there and see what he's ranting about." The two Dunmer kicked their horses into a full gallop up the road. They didn't get far before they came to a small camp of no more than half a dozen tents with a few dozen people strewn about. Arken and Fynix took in the gruesome scene as they slowly rode through the camp. There were wounded everywhere, keeping the healers very busy. People of all races and cultures with varying injuries from simple cuts and bruises all the way to dismembered appendages lined the sides of the road. A Bosmer couple, the husband holding a bloody mark on his side, were huddled near a fire with a lost look on their faces. An Argonian lay beside a tent, with someone tending what looked like a large bite mark on his leg. Several people were buzzing around a Khajiit who was missing his arm from the elbow down and bleeding badly. It looked like a refugee camp from a war zone.

Arken kept his face pious as he scanned the wounded along the road, "Any of these people look like a priest?"

Fynix shook his head, "I hope we're not too late."

Arken pulled Eclipse to a halt and called to an Orc woman nearby, "Excuse me. Do you know if there's anyone named Martin here?"

The Orc thought for a second before shaking her head, "You mean the priest? Last I saw him, he was leading a group towards the Chapel of Akatosh. If he's lucky, he's trapped in there with the rest of them, at least safe for the moment. If he's not…well…"

The Dunmer thief hopped off Eclipse and tied her to a nearby tree, "Nix, we've got to get up there and find him."

Fynix slid off his own horse, nearly falling on the way down, "If he's even still alive."

Arken checked his sword before looking at his friend, "And you're supposed to be the optimist?"

"Look around, Arken." Fynix fanned his arm to take in the refugee camp, "If this camp is any indication, then it doesn't leave much room for hope."

Arken shook his head, "My days in the Morag Tong taught me to never say someone's dead until you're standing over their corpse, Nix. Now let's go." He turned and started up the hill toward the city. They walked up the hill and got to a hairpin turn when the sky started to turn an ominous bloody red color. Lightning flashed and the clouds disappeared in the demonic crimson hue.

"Um, Fynix?" Arken looked up at the sky as it started to change, "I don't know about you, but that doesn't strike me as normal."

The battlemage looked up at the sky, "Good gods! What's causing that?"

Arken looked around and shook his head, "I'm not sure I want to find out. I'm starting to think we're in over our heads here. Let's move." They doubled their pace and reached the top to find a surprising sight. Several guardsmen of the Kvatch city watch had set up a series of spiked barricades at a choke point in the road. Several soldiers were in front of the barricade, holding their ground. A few archers were positioned behind the barricade and were providing cover fire whenever they could, and several more soldiers were resting behind them. The men were fighting off a number of creatures that both Arken and Fynix recognized as daedric scamps, little more than an annoyance by themselves, but they posed a real threat in greater numbers. The area the scamps charged across was scorched completely black, everything around it burnt to a crisp.

They finished off the scamps and the man in charge, presumably Capt. Savlian Matius, turned toward his men and started issuing orders, "You men on the line, switch out with the guards behind the barricade. I want fresh soldiers on the line for the next wave. Archers, fire at them while they're still distant but save your arrows when they reach us. Try to avoid friendly fire."

Arken's and Fynix's attentions weren't so much on the barricade as what the guards were barricading from. In front of the city gate was an enormous portal. The gate consisted of glossy black daedric stone, swirling and spiraling with fiery energies. Within the threshold, a weave of fiery orange, yellow, and crimson blended and swirled to form a doorway into the hellish realm of Oblivion itself. The gate surged with daedric energies and deposited another bunch of scamps that charged to their deaths against the guards' barricade.

Fynix just stared slack-jawed and Arken nodded with wide eyes, "Yup. We are _definitely_ in over our heads."


	4. Chapter III

III

Arken and Fynix stared at the otherworldly artifice as the short and bloody battle between scamps and guardsmen raged and quieted. The scamps were no match for the guardsmen, but the tactic was to wear them out with wave after wave of suicidal scamps. They finished off the last of the scamps and the captain moved through the barricade and started back toward Arken and Fynix.

When he got to them, he pointed at them, then down the hill, "Stand back, civilians. This is no place for you. Get back to the encampment at once."

Arken scoffed and tapped his sword twice, "We're hardly civilians. You must be Capt. Matius." He looked out over the charred battlefield, "What happened here?"

The Imperial guard captain gave a frustrated wave of his arm toward the blackened field and smoking piles of debris, "We lost the city. _That's_ what happened!" He looked back at the billowing pillars of black smoke, "It was too much…too fast. We were overwhelmed. Couldn't even get everyone out. Some made it into the chapel, but others were just run down in the streets. The count and his men are still holed up in the castle." He looked away and cursed under his breath, "And now we can't even get back into the city to help them, with that Oblivion gate blocking the way."

Arken looked around the captain to the hastily established barricade behind him, "What will you do now?"

Cap. Matius huffed angrily and shrugged, "The only thing we can do. We'll try to hold our ground, that's what." He looked back at his line of men, "If we can't hold this barricade, those beasts could march right down and overrun the encampment." He looked back at them, "I have to try to protect the few civilians that are left. It's _all_ I can do now."

Fynix finally tore his gaze from the gate to look at Capt. Matius, "How can we help?"

Matius' eyes widened and his head jerked back in a surprised motion, "You want to help? You're kidding, right?" He gave both Dunmer a closer look and sized them up, "Hmm…if you're serious, maybe I can put you two use. It would likely mean your deaths, though."

Arken smirked, "That just makes it more interesting. What do you need?"

Matius pointed back at the Oblivion gate, "I don't know how to close this gate. But it must be possible, because the enemy closed the other gates from the initial attack." He motioned to the scorched battlefield, "You can see the marks on the ground where they were, with the great gate right in the middle. I sent men into the gate to see if they could find a way to shut it. They haven't come back." He turned toward them, "If you can get in there, find out what's happened to them. If they're alive, help them finish the job. If not, see what you can do on your own."

Arken nodded confidently, "I'll go in."

Fynix looked at him tentatively, "Are you going to need help?"

Arken shook his head, "No, Fynix. I move faster on my own and the guards could use your magic. You stay out here and reinforce the barricade."

Fynix breathed a relieved sigh, "Thank you. I'm none too keen on the idea of going into that thing. I'll do what I can out here."

Capt. Matius stood in front of Arken and offered his hand, "The best I can say is good luck. If you make it back alive, we'll be waiting for you."

Arken shook the captain's hand and drew his sword, waiting for the guards to beat back the next wave of scamps before making his move.

Fynix drew his sword and put his hand on Arken's shoulder as he walked by, "Best of luck, old friend."

Arken nodded to him, "To us both." He watched him walk by and take up a position at the barricade. Arken worked his fingers around the grip of his sword once as the last of the latest wave of scamps was finished off, then took off running. He bounded over the barricade and ran full sprint for the gate. He shielded his eyes with his arm as he jumped into the gate and vanished. He came out the other side, landing on his feet in a crouch with blade held ready. Arken scanned his surroundings, but his search for threats was interrupted by his awe at the world he'd been transported to. The sky was a bloody red color, streaks of orange lightning slicing across it frequently with rolling thunder. The land was an absolute wreck. Bridges, towers, and enormous boulders lay strewn in ruins across the realm as far as the eye could see, only interrupted by the occasional lake or river of lava. The air was uncomfortably hot, not so much for a heat-resilient Dunmer.

Arken stopped and gazed with wide eyes, "We are _definitely_ in over our heads." He sheathed his sword and pulled his bow from his back, nocking an arrow on the string. He didn't go far before he spotted someone running toward him. He was adorned in the white with black cuirass of a Kvatch city guardsman. He turned around and raised his shield in time for a fireball to splash against it. Arken located the source of the fireball, a scamp, and drew back his arrow to let it fly to the target. He pinned the scamp squarely between the eyes, knocking it back into a pool of lava.

The guardsman turned to see who'd fired the arrow and ran up to Arken, "Thank the Nine. Quickly, we've got to get out of here." He looked back at the towers in the distance, "The others…taken…they were taken to the tower."

Arken lowered his bow and put a hand on the guard's shoulder to steady him, "Hold on, soldier. Calm down."

The soldier shook and hung his head, "I'm sorry. I just thought I'd never see a friendly face, man or mer." He wiped his forehead and stood up straight, "Guardsman Ilend Vonius, Kvatch City Watch. Capt. Matius sent us in to try and close the gate. We were ambushed, trapped, and picked off. I managed to escape, but the others are strewn across that bridge." He pointed to a bridge where Arken could see bodies. The soldier's eyes widened as though he'd realized something and he turned to look at Arken, "Menian! They took Menian off to the big tower! You've got to save him."

Arken nodded, "I'll get him. You go through that gate and help Capt. Matius hold the road."

Vonius' eyes widened again, this time with surprise, "The captain is still holding the barricade? I figured I was the only one left alive." He nodded, "Alright. I'll try to get out of here and let the captain know what's going on." He walked around Arken and ran to the gate. Arken looked across the horizon and located two towers that were a short distance away. One of the towers had a strange glowing mark on the face. Arken cocked an eyebrow as he looked at the towers. If there was any way to close this gate, he'd bet money that he could find it in or around those towers. Arken nocked another arrow on his bowstring and started his venture into the desolate wastes of Oblivion.

* * *

Fynix stepped on a scamp's neck and stabbed it through the chest to finish off the last of the most recent wave. He looked at his bloody blade and held his hand over it, summoning a flame spell to burn the blood off. It had begun to rain, but the fiery skies reduced it to more of a drizzle. After cleaning his blade, Fynix turned to look for Capt. Matius. He located the captain talking to the guard who'd just come out of the gate. He could hear the remains of their conversation as he approached.

"…and then they took Menian off toward the towers. The others didn't make it. I think I survived only because I was cut off from them before the ambush sprung."

The captain nodded curtly, "And what of the Dunmer that went in after you?"

The guard shrugged, "I didn't stick around after he showed up. He sent me back out here to help hold the barricade. I saw him start running toward the towers before I left."

Matius nodded again and jerked his head behind the barricade, "Get behind the archer line and take a break for a while. Once you've rested, I want you on the front line."

The guard saluted, "Yes, sir." He turned and headed behind the barricade.

Matius looked at Fynix and shook his head, "You're friend is either brave or crazy to try this stunt alone."

Fynix just nodded, "I've been trying to figure out which it is since I met him."

Matius started walking, inspecting his line and the barricade, "Are you certain he can pull this off?"

Fynix shrugged as he walked with him, "Who's to say. I don't even know how that gate is standing there. I'm no expert, but everything I know of Conjuration says that a stable portal like that should be impossible. I don't even know what's keeping it open, much less how to close it." He paused to look at the fiery gate before continuing, "I do know this, though. If Arken can't close it, he won't stop trying until he finds a way."

The captain stood up after reassuring a wounded soldier, "Well, I hope he finds a way soon. Given my men's condition, we can't hold out much longer."

Fynix nodded to him, "Don't worry, captain. If anyone can find a way to close that gate, it's Arken." He looked at the gate, muttering to himself as the captain walked away, "Don't go making a liar out of me now, Ark."

* * *

Arken pushed the heavy stone door aside and peered in. The inside of the tower was substantially darker than outside. Either that or his eyes weren't adjusted to the light difference. He slipped in and pushed the door shut behind him, trying to make as little noise as possible. Arken knew full well that the fate of the guards outside was at stake, but at the same time, he didn't want to go charging head-first into a horde of varying kinds of daedra. He tried to move at a quick yet cautiously stealthy pace, trying to avoid detection wherever possible.

The first thing Arken took note of in the tower was the large spire of flame shooting up the shaft in the middle. He looked up to see where it ended, but it looked like it went straight to the top of the tower. Arken wagered that that flaming spire had something to do with what was keeping the gate open.

Arken didn't start moving up the spire on account of a pair of Dremora and a scamp around the base of the flame spire. He nocked an arrow on his bowstring and drew back, sighting the Dremora closest to him. He loosed the arrow, spearing the Dremora through the neck and killing him instantly. The other two daedra immediately took notice of their comrade's untimely demise and found who had caused it. Arken stowed his bow on his back with one hand while drawing his sword with the other. The scamp approached him first and turned to try to shoulder-bash him. Arken stepped aside the dim creature's attack and rotated his sword around backhand to run the scamp through the back. The Dremora charged with a mace held high to strike. Arken yanked his sword out of the scamp and continued in a spin kick he landed on the side of the Dremora's head. After solidly connecting the first kick, Arken switched feet and snapped out a linear kick squarely in the Dremora's chest. The daedra took the full force of the blow and staggered back, tripping over a railing and falling into the pit of lava at the base of the flame spire. Arken sheathed his sword and looked around, searching for stairs or a door that would lead up. He found a door and more dark hallways beyond leading up the tower.

He continued up for several levels and through a number of small rooms. At one level of the tower, he came to a door that led outside with a bridge leading to a smaller tower. After taking a moment to ponder the choice of direction he now had, Arken decided to check out the tower to see if it had anything to do with the gate. He crossed the narrow bridge and pushed the door into the tower open. He looked around for a moment before he heard a voice shouting at him from above.

"In the cage! Over here!"

Arken looked up to see a man in a creepy looking red cage suspended over a pit. That had to be Menian. Arken ran up the ramp that ascended only to come face to face with a Dremora wielding a sword.

The Dremora stepped closer and shouted, "You should not be here, mortal! Your blood is forfeit! Your flesh is mine!" He swung in an overhand chop that Arken dodged aside from. The Dremora pressed the attack, turning and swinging at Arken sidearm. The young Dunmer jumped back from the swing and retaliated by lunging forward with a sidearm strike of his own. The Dremora raised his sword to block him, catching the blade on the guard of his own. Without skipping a beat, Arken cranked the blades around to break the Dremora's guard and stepped forward to punch the daedra in the face twice. Arken followed the second punch up by spinning around with a two-handed tip slash across the Dremora's throat. The tip of his blade raked across the Dremora's neck, releasing a flow of black blood. The Dremora coughed up some blood with a surprised look on his face before falling to his side in a heap. Arken sheathed his sword and looked at the cage.

The man in the cage reached through the bars, "Quickly. Quickly, there's no time. You must get to the top of the large tower. The Sigil Keep, they call it. That's what keeps the Oblivion gate open. Find the Sigil Stone. Remove it and the gate will close." He pointed to the Dremora's body, "Hurry. The keeper has the key. You must get the key."

Arken checked the Dremora's body to find a key hanging from his belt. He pulled it off and put it in a pouch on his belt before turning his attention to the man in the cage.

He approached the cage and started looking it over for a lock or opening mechanism, "You must be Menian. I'm getting you out of here."

Menian shook his head, "Don't worry about me. There's no time. Get moving!"

Arken stared hard at him for a moment before reaching around to the back of his belt and pulling out a few lockpicks, which he handed to Menian through the cage bars.

"I'm going to the top of that tower and I'm going to close the Oblivion gate. Get yourself out of that cage and through that gate before I close it or you're stuck here."

Menian took the lockpicks and pointed at Arken, "Just as long as you don't wait for me. Now get moving and close that gate. Go!" Arken turned and left the tower, crossing the bridge and entering the sigil tower to begin his upward ascension again. He'd given Menian plenty of lockpicks, now it was up to him to get himself free. But prisoner or not, Arken was closing this gate. More lives than his own counted on it.

* * *

Fynix lit off a frost bolt that froze a scamp in its tracks and looked around at the men on the line. It was clear that the scamp wear-down tactic was working. These men had just come back from resting behind the barricade and yet they were still heavily fatigued. Capt. Matius was rotating the men more and more to try to keep his freshest soldiers on the line, but they were all starting to run out of steam. Fynix offered a stamina restoring spell whenever he could, but he couldn't keep all of them on their feet all the time. The rain had begun to fall heavier, only adding to the repressing feeling everyone felt. He looked back at the gate. They were running out of time.

He looked back at Matius, "Captain, pull two more men back. I can fill their hole."

Capt. Matius shook his head, "If I pull too many more back, you'll be the only one on the line. You can't hold it on your own."

Fynix shook his head in response, "Don't worry about me. Just give your men as much chance to rest as they can. I can…"

"Captain, look!" One of the soldiers drew everyone's attention to the Oblivion gate as it surged with energy again. This time, instead of spewing out more scamps, a large beast that looked like an enormous bipedal crocodile stepped from the threshold. It took several steps forward and stopped to roar loudly at the men on the barricade.

Capt. Matius took a step back, "By the Nine! What is that thing?"

Fynix's eyes widened and he started waving everyone behind the line, "It's a Daedroth! Pull everybody back!"

The captain started moving back behind the barricade, "Everyone fall back! Fall back now! Archers, fire at will!" The archers unleashed a volley of arrows at the daedroth, but their attack only served to get it angry. It pulled all the arrows out of its body and roared again before starting to stomp forward in a charge.

"Everyone stay here." Fynix hopped over the barricade and started to run toward it.

The captain stood up and followed him with his gaze, "Are you crazy? Get back here! You'll be killed!"

Fynix ignored him and charged the daedroth as fast as his iron armor would allow. As soon as he closed the distance, the daedroth wasted no time in swinging at him. Fynix ducked under its claws and swung his sword, only clipping the tip of its snout. Undeterred, the daedroth swung again. Fynix jumped back, sparks falling from his chestplate as the daedroth's claws barely scraped it. He stepped in to swing again only to be bludgeoned off his feet by the back of the daedroth's hand. Fynix landed hard on his side and rolled onto his back in time to see the daedroth kneel over him and roar. That gave Fynix his chance. As the big lizard reared its head back to clamp its jaws down on the helpless mage, Fynix pushed himself up and stabbed his blade forward just as it snapped down. Fynix's sword jammed into the daedroth's mouth, piercing through and out the back of its skull. It stood there for a moment, paralyzed and breathing heavily, before it slowly fell sideways. Fynix picked himself up off the muddy ground and stepped on the daedroth's neck to pull his sword out. He walked back to the barricade to be regaled with congratulations from the soldiers.

Capt. Matius pushed his way through his men and shook Fynix's hand, "I don't know how you did it, but that was incredible."

"I'm just thankful I survived." Fynix looked down at the claw marks on his chestplate. The guards all went back to their positions on the line, but Fynix noticed that they were more enthusiastic now, a little more vigorous. His killing the daedroth had won a morale victory, if nothing else.

Fynix looked at the Oblivion gate and spoke under his breath, "I've bought us time, Ark, but not much. Please, hurry."

* * *

Arken pushed through the door into the highest room of the sigil tower and looked around. The hallway was empty, as was the lowest level of the room. The room consisted of three levels. The bottom floor had a red domed floor with a hole in the middle that the flame spire was shooting through. Two sets of claw-like stairs ascended to the second level, which was a wide walkway around the room's perimeter. The third level was a smaller raised platform that came level with the top of the flame spire. Arken couldn't make it out clearly from down here, but the flame spire ended by shooting into some kind of circular apparatus suspended by large chains high above the floor. That must be where the sigil stone was, which meant the way to close the gate.

Arken ascended the steps and followed the walkway to find two guards at the base of the ramps up to the third floor. Two scamps was hardly a threat, but Arken didn't know what other surprises this room held. Arken gauged the distance to them and the distance between them, then pulled two arrows from his quiver. He tore the one of the fletchings off each arrow with his teeth and spat them out as he held his bow sideways and pulled both arrows back at the same time. He aimed right between the two scamps and loosed his deadly payload. Rather than flying straight, the arrows veered apart as soon as they left the bowstring, cleanly careening into both scamps at the same time. Arken smiled. A perfect hawk strike, tearing a fletching off two arrows to make them swerve in midair and hit two targets at the same time.

He climbed the ramp to find one more threat in the room, a Dremora with a red glowing longsword at his side. And worse yet, he turned and saw Arken just as he ascended the ramp. Arken stowed his bow and drew his sword as the Dremora did the same and charged. The Dremora swung when he closed the distance and Arken dodged aside the strike. The Dunmer noticed a small puff of flame when the Dremora's sword struck the chain beside them. The Dremora's sword was flame enchanted; not good. Even if the blade struck his sword, the enchantment could set him ablaze where he stood. To counterattack, Arken ducked under the next swing and stepped in to grab the Dremora's wrist, taking control of the sword. The Dremora wrestled his other arm around until he could contrarily grab Arken's wrist, taking control of his sword. The two were now locked in a grapple, both unable to use their weapons against the other. The Dremora smiled, thinking he'd brought this fight to a stalemate. What he didn't count on was the tenacity of his opponent. Arken reared his head back and head-butted the Dremora squarely in the forehead. The Dremora released Arken and fell back with his arms spread apart, seeing stars and thoroughly unconscious. Arken smirked victoriously and turned to claim his prize.

At the edge of the platform, the flame spire ended in a circular apparatus with what Arken was seeking on top. The sigil stone. There was nothing remarkable about the stone itself. It was just a small sphere of a drab brown color. Arken approached the stone and touched it carefully, immediately retracting his hand at the heat he felt. It didn't burn, but it was hot enough to be uncomfortable, even for a Dunmer. Arken's plan was to remove the stone from its perch and see if he could get back to the gate before it closed. Arken took a step closer and grabbed the stone with both hands. He pulled at the stone, but it was being held in place by some unseen force. As Arken pulled harder, the flames around it began to brighten and intensify, until the stone finally came free.

The flame spire shot straight up through the ceiling and the circular device started to turn. Arken looked around as flames and blasts of energy started to erupt all around him. He could tell that he didn't have much time to get to the gate. He took off running with the stone under his arm, but only made it as far as the second floor of the room before a bright flash overtook him. Everything turned white as the sun.

* * *

Fynix grabbed a scamp by its neck and held it off the ground as fire spread from his hand to engulf the scamp's body. He tossed the burning corpse aside and turned to look at the men fighting with him. They were exhausted, nearly spent from ceaseless fighting. A few morale victories had brought them out of it for a while, but they couldn't go on much longer.

A guard pointed at the gate, "Captain…the gate." Fynix looked to watch the stones the gate was made of collapse in on themselves and the threshold shrink into a tiny dot of orange before flashing out of existence. With the flash of the threshold closing, Fynix could see Arken standing at the base of where the gate had been, holding something in his hands. All of the guards, wounded and healthy alike, raised a cheer that the gate was finally closed. Fynix looked into the sky to see that the eerie red glow had vanished, letting the rain in the clouds fall unhindered. The rain would help refresh the guardsmen. Fynix and the captain left their places on the line to walk up to Arken.

Capt. Matius pushed his sword into the scabbard as he approached, "You closed the gate. I knew you could do it." He looked at the city gates briefly before looking at Arken and Fynix, "This is our chance to launch a counter attack. I need you two to come with us. You two have far more combat experience than these men."

Arken shot a glance at Fynix, "Give us a minute." He pulled the mage aside to address him privately, "What do you think? Can we afford to take the time to help these guys?"

Fynix shrugged, "Martin's still trapped in the city. If they can help us get in and get him out, then all the better."

Arken nodded as he put the sigil stone in his pack and drew his sword, "Then let's do it." They both turned and walked toward Capt. Matius, "We're in, captain."

The captain nodded and looked back at the barricade, "Give me some time to let my men rest and we'll hit the city full force." Capt. Matius let his men rest for a full hour, which was more than enough time to let them get back into fighting trim. Not counting the wounded they left at the barricade, the force that attacked the city consisted of no more than about two dozen men, but they were the best of the remaining guardsmen, so they had skills to match their survivability. When they pushed open the gates to attack, Arken and Fynix saw just how destructive the daedra war machine was. The city was a mess. The residential section of town had been laid to ruins and all the shops had been razed to the ground. The upper half of the steeple of the Chapel of Akatosh was lying in a crumbled heap that blocked one of the roads. With much of Arken's and Fynix's help, the guardsmen took the plaza and cleared the daedra out before pushing into the chapel.

Arken followed Fynix through the chapel door, wiping the blood off his blade as he stepped in. He looked up through the hole in the ceiling where the steeple had been and stepped out of the rain that was falling in. Arken shook his head to get some of the water out of his shoulder-length hair, but only succeeded in wrapping a wet lock of hair around his face. He straightened his sopping wet mane as Capt. Matius went to one of the two guardsmen in the chapel who'd survived the initial massacre and had been trapped in here.

The captain walked up to the guard, a Redguard woman, and motioned to everyone in the chapel, "Report, soldier."

The guard glanced back at the refugees in the chapel briefly, "Sir, we're all that's left." She pointed at who she spoke of, "Berich Inian, myself, and these civilians."

Capt. Matius went slack-jawed as he looked around the chapel. Including the two guardsmen, there were no more than a dozen people around the large room, not counting the soldiers he'd just arrived with.

"That's it?" He looked at the guard in disbelief, "There's no one else?"

The woman shook her head, "There were others, sir, but they refused to stay put. We tried to convince them it was dangerous, but they left anyway." She shrugged, "I guess they didn't make it."

Capt. Matius nodded grimly before straightening up to a soldier's demeanor, "Very well. The area outside of here has been cleared and these people need to be taken to safety. Escort them to the camp south of here at once."

The guard's eyes widened, "But, sir, I want to help fight."

The captain nodded and put a hand on her shoulder, "You will, soldier. Once they're secure, get back here immediately. We'll need every available blade. There'll be plenty of fighting to go around."

Apparently satisfied with the explanation, the Redguard saluted, "Sir, yes, sir." She looked back at the refugees and started waving them over toward the door, "Civilians, it's time to move out. Let's go." The refugees passed Arken and Fynix as they started gathering by the door to leave. As they walked by, Arken noticed a young man, probably in his late twenties to early thirties, with sandy brown hair and dressed in a grey robe that befit a priest.

Arken nudge Fynix and nodded toward the young man, "If I had to guess, I'd say that's our guy."

Fynix looked at the young man for a moment before speaking, "A priest…looks about the right age…I think you're right."

Arken nodded and looked around the room, "We'll help Capt. Matius as long as we can, but then we need to get back to the camp and find that guy." The young priest left the chapel with the group of civilians and the captain assessed his men's condition before asking Arken and Fynix to continue further with them to help take back the castle and the city. They willingly agreed, both of them knowing that they wouldn't be able to rest easily until this city was free of the daedra. But they both also knew that their true objective was down in the refugee camp, waiting for news that would change his life forever.


	5. Chapter IV

IV

Arken and Fynix didn't stick around long in the destroyed city of Kvatch. They helped the captain and his men retake the rest of the city and even the castle. The celebration of taking back the city was tainted with sadness, however. While they'd driven the daedra out, the count and all his men were killed before Matius' guards could get to them. They did manage to recover Count Goldwine's ring, but that news did little to soften the blow of the loss of the count himself. After lending what aid they could, Arken and Fynix bid their farewells to Capt. Matius, the captain giving Arken his enchanted cuirass for their efforts, and hurried out of the city to the refugee camp. Once they arrived, they immediately began their search for the young priest, Martin. After a little asking around, the Dunmer pair finally found the young man tending to some of the wounded.

They approached him as he stood and Arken spoke up, "Excuse me?"

The young man looked at them when he realized he was being addressed, "Yes? How can I help you?" He pointed at them both, "Wait. You're the ones. I heard about how you helped the guard drive the daedra back. Well done."

Fynix nodded upon seeing Martin, "So you're who we're looking for. The Emperor told us to find you."

Martin frowned at them, "The Emperor is dead." His gaze flitted between them, "Who are you? What do you _really_ want with me?"

Arken folded his arms, wondering if they'd found the right person, "You're Martin, right? The priest?"

He nodded sourly in return, "Yes. I'm a priest. Do you need a priest?" He hung his head, "I don't think I'll be much help to you. I'm having trouble understanding the gods right now." He met their gazes with a bitter frown on his face, "If all this is part of a divine plan, I'm not sure I want to have anything to do with it."

Arken shrugged and shook his head, "Gods or not, we need your help."

Martin just scoffed, "If you came to me for help, you're more fools than you look." He motioned to the camped of devastated refugees around them, "Look around. What good is a priest?"

Fynix shook his head, "That's not what we need your help with." He paused briefly before continuing, "You are Uriel Septim's son."

Martin's head jerked backward in a surprised motion and his eyes widened, "Emperor Uriel Septim? You think the emperor is my father?" He looked away and shook his head, "No. You must have the wrong man. I am a priest of Akatosh. My father was a farmer."

Arken leaned closer and pointed at Martin, "You think this city's destruction was just a coincidence? The daedra came here for you."

The young priest's eyes widened, "An entire city destroyed to get at me? Why?" He looked down, pondering the concept, "Because I'm the emperor's son?"

Arken shrugged casually, "Why would we lie to you?"

Martin furrowed his brow as he studied the two Dunmer before him, "I don't know. It's strange…I think you might actually be telling the truth." A lost expression crossed his features, "What does this mean? What do you want from me?"

Fynix motioned toward their horses, "Come with us to Weynon Priory. Our contact, Jauffre, can tell you more there."

Martin stared at the two Dark Elves for a long moment before finally speaking, "You destroyed the Oblivion Gate, they say. You gave them hope. You helped them drive the daedra back." He nodded firmly, "Yes. I'll come with you to Weynon Priory and hear what Jauffre has to say. Lead on." The trio mounted up their horses for the journey back to the priory. Martin doubled up with Arken, since Eclipse was the stronger of the two animals and more able to carry two riders. On the way back to the priory, Arken and Fynix had a chance to talk with Martin and learn about him. They learned that he was no stranger to working and getting his hands dirty, understandable considering his rearing as a farmer's son. They also learned that he was no stranger to magic. He'd learned a great deal about the arcane arts from a brief tenure in the Mages Guild and while training for the priesthood, meaning that he was far from helpless in a fight. That topic started up Fynix's chatterbox about all kinds of magical terms and concepts, leaving Arken far behind in the conversation. It wasn't until they came near the priory earlier that morning that more foul workings began to make themselves known.

Fynix nodded, firmly engrossed in his conversation with Martin, "Yes, but I thought a spell's apex was maintained through the Circular Force Principle."

Martin shook his head, "Actually, I've always heard that Circular Force applied only to Alteration spells. Other spells are maintained…"

"Quiet! I thought I heard something." Arken pulled Eclipse to a stop and listened. There was silence in the air save for the occasional bird call. There was nothing for a moment before the calm was broken by the sound of clashing metal in the distance.

Arken looked back at his companions, "That's not good. Let's move!" He kicked Eclipse hard and started into a full gallop for the remainder of the distance to the priory. When they came within sight of the priory house, the first thing the trio noticed was the shepherd, Eronor, running down the road toward them.

He came running, waving and pointing back at the priory, a terrified look on his face, "Help! You must help! They're killing everyone at Weynon Priory!"

Arken slid off his horse and caught Eronor by the shoulders as he approached, "Hold on. Slow down. Just tell us what happened."

The shepherd caught his breath for a moment and looked back, "I don't know. I think they're right behind me." He looked back at Arken and his terror deepened, "Prior Maborel is dead!"

Fynix looked down from his horse, "Who's attacking Weynon Priory?"

Eronor shrugged, "I was in the sheepfold when they attacked. I heard the prior talking to someone. Looked around the corner to see who it was. They looked like travelers, ordinary. Suddenly, weapons appeared in their hands and they cut the prior down before he could move. They saw me watching and I ran."

Arken nodded, with Eronor's description confirming his suspicion of who the attackers were, "Where's Jauffre?"

The Dunmer shepherd shook his head, "I don't know. In the chapel, praying, I think. You must help us."

Arken nodded again, but his eyes widened as he pushed Eronor aside and whipped out his sword to halt a downward swing from an armored cult assassin. He pushed the blades off to the right and rotated, spinning into a linear kick squarely to his opponent's abdomen. The assassin flew backward and landed on his back, where he shoulder-hopped to his feet. He came to his feet only to be blasted backward by a potent frost spell. His conjured armor vanished in a red mist as he flew backward through the air and tumbled in a heap at the base of the priory well.

Arken glanced over his shoulder, "Thanks, Nix."

"That wasn't me, Arken." Fynix pointed at Martin,

Arken looked back at his friend briefly before switching his gaze to the young and seemingly harmless priest on his horse.

He nodded in appreciation, "Well, at least I know we won't have to baby-sit you in a fight."

Martin nodded, "I told you before, I'm not completely helpless." He slid off Eclipse and drew a small dagger from his belt, "We have to find Jauffre before it's too late."

Arken nodded again, "Agreed. Nix, let's go!" The three left the horses at the well and ran for the chapel. Before they could get there, another assassin attacked from beneath the archway, swinging crosswise at the closest one, Fynix, with a mace. The mage ducked under the swing and came up in an uppercut to his opponent's chin, staggering him for a brief moment.

Fynix drew his sword, squaring off with the assassin, and looked over his shoulder to the others, "Just go! I'll catch up." Arken didn't skip a beat as he grabbed Martin's shoulder and pushed open the chapel door.

The situation they walked into was bad. Jauffre was indeed in the chapel, but he was outnumbered three to one. He stood wielding a long-bladed dai-katana, cornered against the altar by three assassins. Upon seeing Arken enter the building, Jauffre charged his assailants, knowing that the odds had now been evened. Arken dropped his sword and pulled his bow from his back, hastily drawing and loosing an arrow at one of the assassins. The arrow struck his target in the back, just below the shoulder blade. Martin lit off another spell while Jauffre broke his opponent's guard and slashed him across the waist, his armor vanishing as he died. The wounded assassin turned and raised his weapon to attack Martin when another of Arken's arrows struck him again, this time through the neck. His armor disappeared in that telltale red cloud as the force of the shot flipped him head over heels and he toppled over one of the chapel benches.

Jauffre lowered his blade and wiped his brow, "You're back. Thank Talos." He looked down at the red-robed bodies scattered around the room, "They attacked without warning. I was praying in the chapel when I heard Prior Maborel shout. I had just time to arm myself."

Arken ripped a red sleeve off of one of the bodies' robes and handed it to Jauffre, "What are they doing here?"

Jauffre accepted the cloth and used it to wipe the sweat from his forehead, "The Amulet of Kings. I fear that was the target of this attack. I kept it in a secret room in Weynon House." He used the red cloth to wipe the blood off his sword, "We need to go see if it is safe."

Arken nodded as he retrieved his sword, "Then let's get moving."

Jauffre tossed the dirty cloth aside and assumed a fighting stance, "We'll go together. But I fear the worst."

They pushed the chapel doors open to become witnesses to an awesome spectacle. The assassin that Fynix had been fighting was suspended several feet off the ground by an unseen force as lightning played over his body. Streams of lightning surged from both of Fynix's hands, the cultist's robes catching fire from the powerful current. Fynix finished up by thrusting his hands forward, a powerful telekinetic blast throwing the fried corpse through the air to an unseen landing in the woods several hundred feet away. The mage lowered his arms, tendrils of lightning still sparking over his hands, as he took several deep breaths calm down. He then quietly picked up his sword from the ground next to his feet and returned it to its sheath. He turned to find his companions staring at him slack-jawed.

Fynix shrugged, "What?"

Arken pointed at him, "Remind me never to make you angry from now on."

The mage shrugged again, "What can I say? I've got a bit of a temper." He nodded to Jauffre, "Good to see you in one piece, Jauffre."

The Blade nodded in return, "I fear the enemy came here for the Amulet of Kings. We must go see if it is safe." The four men ran into the priory house to find the place ransacked. Tables had been overturned and bookshelves swept clean of their contents, all in search for the Amulet. Jauffre immediately ran up the stairs and to the right, turning into what looked before like a cabinet, but was actually doors to the secret room he referred to. Arken and Fynix came into the room just in time to see Jauffre push aside the severed lid of a broken storage chest and look inside.

The grandmaster staked his blade down into the wooden floor in anger, "They've taken it! The Amulet of Kings is gone! The enemy has defeated us at every turn."

Arken returned his sword to its scabbard as Fynix pointed his thumb back at Martin, "On a slightly brighter note, we did find Martin. At least he's safe."

Jauffre gave a consigned nod as he yanked his blade out of the floor, "So it has not all gone against us. Thank Talos for that. We gained Uriel's heir and lost the Amulet of Kings." He slid the long blade into a catch-sheath on his back, "Martin cannot stay here. We have driven them off, but they will be back once they learn of Martin's survival, which they will."

Arken looked back at the overturned priory house, "Well, I think this mess just proved that we can't really hide from them. Where will Martin be safe?"

Jauffre folded his arms, "Nowhere is truly safe against the power arrayed against us, but we must play for time, at least." He stoked his chin as he thought for a moment, "Cloud Ruler Temple, I think; the hidden fortress of the Blades, in the mountains near Bruma. A few men can hold it against an army. We should leave at once." He grabbed a few nearby satchels and started going about the ransacked room gathering supplies.

The group gathered what few supplies remained and mounted a quartet of horses in the stable. Fynix gave up his chestnut to Martin in exchange for a small Paint. The group set out for Bruma as soon as possible. Arken led the way at first, but Jauffre took the lead when Arken started nodding off along the way. Neither he nor Fynix had slept at all since leaving the prison over two days ago, and both were starting to feel the effects. Fynix gave them both a little extra pep with the occasional spell, but that was only a short term fix until they could find some place to rest.

After several hours of riding along the road, the walls of the city of Bruma came into view. It was snowing this far up in the Jeralls, with the cold adding to the sense of fatigue that all four men were feeling. Jauffre led them out and around the walls and up a little path on the mountain northwest of the city. The path curved gently to the left, then sharply to the right, revealing the gates of the fortress of Cloud Ruler Temple around the bend. Tired though he was, Arken's first instinct was to size up the fortress' defenses. The walls were high and two guard booths stood on top over the gate. Arken nodded as he looked around at the fortress and the road. The narrow road meant an enemy would be squeezed into a tight formation, and it would be uphill all the way. Archers could rain arrows down on enemies long before they even saw the front gates, making it extremely difficult just to get up the mountain.

The quartet came to the gates and dismounted their horses. Arken stopped to lean on Eclipse for a moment. He was starting to feel the full force of not sleeping for several days. His Dunmer physiology allowed him to go for longer periods of time without sleep than humans, but even the strong needed to rest. He turned his head to look when he felt a hand touch his shoulder and found himself looking at the same tired expression on Fynix's face. The Dunmer mage was just as exhausted as Arken. Nonetheless, Fynix gave his friend a reassuring nod and Arken felt some of his energy return as he felt magic flow from Nix's hand into his body. Arken nodded in return and moved to join everyone else as the fortress gates began to open. A pair of soldiers wearing Blade armor pushed the gates open from within and a third soldier stepped forward, saluting to Jauffre.

The Blade looked at Martin and his eyes widened, "Grandmaster, is this…"

"Yes, Cyrus." Jauffre looked at Martin and nodded, "This is the Emperor's son, Martin Septim."

The Blade, Cyrus, stood in front of Martin and bowed to one knee, "My lord. Welcome to Cloud Ruler Temple. We've not had the honor of an Emperor to visit in many years."

Martin just smiled sheepishly, "Ah, well, thank you. The honor is mine."

Jauffre motioned toward the open gates, "Come. Your Blades are waiting to greet you." They started walking into the fortress. As Arken and Fynix followed, Arken's respect for the designer of this fortress rose even further when he saw how it was built. The gates opened into a narrow stairway with walls on either side. There was a wide landing half way up the stairs before it choked down again, and finally led to the fortress courtyard. The design of the staircase would narrow an enemy's advance even further then the path would, forcing them to fight an uphill battle in tight quarters. In addition, archers could continue firing arrows down at the attackers while the foot soldiers had them stonewalled on the stairs. Jauffre was right. With good tactics and adequate provisions, a handful of men could hold this fortress indefinitely.

They reached the top of the stairs to find all the Blades, several dozen soldiers, lined up in a corridor fashion. As Martin walked by, the Blades on either side of him dropped to one knee, only daring to rise again once they were certain he'd passed by. Jauffre came to the other end of the line of soldiers and turned around to face them. All the Blades saluted him and he returned their salute. Arken and Fynix stood off to the side as Jauffre address the Blades.

The grandmaster folded his hands behind his back, "Blades, dark times are upon us. The Emperor and his sons were slain on our watch. The Empire is in chaos." He looked at Martin, who was standing off to one side of him, "But there is yet hope. Here is Martin Septim, true son of Uriel Septim." No sooner were the words out of his mouth did all the Blades draw their swords and raise them into the air, raising an earsplitting shout of "Hail Martin Septim! Hail the Dragonborn!" Having so vehemently announced their loyalty to Martin, the Blades all returned their swords to their sheaths and stood to attention once again.

Jauffre turned to Martin, "Your Highness, the Blades are at your command. You will be safe here until you can take up your throne."

Martin nodded nervously and looked across the soldiers standing before him, "Jauffre. All of you. I know you all expect me to be Emperor. I'll do my best. But this is all new to me. I'm not used to giving speeches, but I want you to know that I appreciate your welcome here. I hope I prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days. That's it. Thank you."

Jauffre looked at Martin and nodded, "Well, then. Thank you, Martin." He nodded to one of the Blades in the group, "We'd all best get back to our duties, eh, captain?" He then started giving orders to the Blade, increasing patrols and readying weapons and supplies, generally increasing the security of the temple. Martin turned and walked over to Fynix and Arken, who were warming themselves by one of the large torches in front of the temple.

He shrugged sheepishly, "Not much of a speech, was it? Didn't seem to bother them, though. The Blades saluting me and hailing me as Martin Septim…" His gaze fell for a moment before he looked at them again, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I know I would be dead by now if it weren't for you. Thank you." Martin looked back at the Blades as they set about their duties, "But everyone expects me to suddenly know what to do, how to behave." He looked at Arken and Fynix with a lost look in his eyes, "They want an Emperor to tell them what to do. And I haven't the faintest idea."

Arken shook his head as he warmed his hands over the fire, "First things first, Martin. Let's focus on getting the Amulet back. _Then_ we can start teaching you how to be an emperor."

Martin nodded firmly, "Of course. The Amulet of Kings, so we…" He paused and shook his head, "…_I_ can take it to the Temple of the One and light the Dragonfires. And stop the Oblivion invasion."

Fynix nodded to the young priest, "And then you will be the Emperor."

Martin chuckled lightly, "The Emperor…that's an idea that will take some getting used to. In any case, we need the Amulet first. Maybe Jauffre will know where to start."

Arken nodded and stood up, "We'll talk to him, but then I need to get some rest. I'm beat."

Fynix nodded, "I'll second that motion." The pair of Dunmer approached the grandmaster Blade.

Arken stood in front of him and rested his hand on his sword, "Now that Martin is safe, we need the second piece of the puzzle. Where do we start for getting the Amulet back?"

Jauffre nodded, "We'll deal with that in a moment. Right now, there is something that I wish to address." His gaze alternated between Fynix and Arken, "You have both proven yourselves loyal servants of the Empire, as worthy as any of the Blades to stand by Martin's side during this crisis. As the grandmaster of the Blades I would be honored to accept you both into our order. Will you join us?"

Fynix's eyes widened and Arken furrowed his brow, "What would our duties as Blades be?"

Jauffre stood up straight and folded his hands behind his back, "The Blades are sworn to the service of the Emperor, as the mortal representative of the Dragon Blood of the Divine Talos."

Arken shrugged, "I've never been one for taking orders, but…" He looked at Fynix, "…I'll do it if you do."

Fynix returned the shrug, "I see no reason why not."

Arken nodded to Jauffre, "We're in."

Jauffe smiled, "It is my honor to welcome you into our ranks as Knight-Brothers of the Blades." He snapped his fingers to a Blade behind him, who presented a pair of Akaviri katanas to the two Dunmer.

"These are the Blades' traditional weapons. This fortress is well supplied with arms and armor. Use what you need from the armory in the east wing."

Arken drew the weapon and nodded appreciatively as he looked it over, "Nice. Very nice." He slid it back into the scabbard, "I like it, but if it's all the same to you, I'll stick with my longsword. A rare weapon like this would stand out in a crowd too much."

Fynix removed his old sword and tossed it on the steps, "Speak for yourself. This blade's a far cry better than this piece of iron junk I've been using." After securing his new blade to his belt, Fynix looked at Jauffre, "Now that we've dealt with that, we need to start trying to figure out how to get the Amulet of Kings back."

Jauffre's face hardened and he nodded, "You're right. We must try to recover the Amulet before the enemy takes it out of our reach." He pointed at them, "You should go back to the Imperial City. Baurus may have learned something about the assassins. You'll find Baurus at Luther Broad's Boarding House in the Elven Gardens district of the Imperial City."

Arken nodded, "We'll get underway in the morning. I don't know about you, but I haven't slept in almost three days. I'm going to get a good night's rest and a couple of good meals before I go anywhere."

Fynix nodded as he hid a yawn with the back of his hand, "That makes two of us."

Jauffre gave an understanding nod, "I know that I cannot expect you to be at your best without having opportunity to rest." He motioned to his right, "The barracks are in the West Wing. Take what time you need, but not too long, please. We must move quickly to secure the Amulet."

Arken nodded, "Don't worry. We'll be on our way at first light tomorrow." With that, the Dunmer thief heaved his pack onto his shoulder and made his way into the barracks for some well-earned rest.


	6. Chapter V

V

Fynix rolled over on the mat in the Temple barracks to get into a more comfortable position. It wasn't that he wasn't accustomed to sleeping on a hard bed. His bed for the past year had been a spider-ridden sackcloth mat on a stone floor, so a thick wool mat on a wooden floor was practically a downy pillow by comparison. He had been sleeping for the last eight or nine hours, but being the creature of habit he was, Fynix's body clock was starting to wake him as morning drew nearer.

The mage rolled onto his back and blinked his eyes open, resigning himself to having rested enough. As he stared at the ceiling, he saw Arken on the mat next to him out of the corner of his eye. He looked at the Dunmer thief to find him sitting on his mat, his legs curled up in front of him with his arms wrapped around his knees. He rested his chin on his knees, staring at the wall across from him.

Fynix sat up on his elbows and furrowed his brow, "Arken, are you alright?"

His friend was silent for a long moment before replying with a slow shake of his head, "Did you know that this is the first time in almost thirty years that I've slept alone as a free man?"

Fynix's eyes widened, "Goodness. Have you been up all night?"

Arken shook his head as it hung low, "I miss her so much, Nix. I miss her even more now that we're out of that sewer of a prison."

Fynix sat up on his mat and nodded, "Arken, I can understand how much you miss her…"

"Think about what you just said, Fynix." Arken cut the mage off as he looked at him, "How could you possibly understand? Merrenda and I were married for almost thirty years. I loved her more than life itself. I would've gladly died for her." He looked forward and hung his head with a sigh, "But she ended up dying for me, instead."

Fynix shrugged and nodded, "I suppose you're right. I never could understand, having never been married myself." He thought for a moment before continuing, "But you said the last thing she said to you was to live free. You know you can do that now. You can honor her last request now that we're out of that prison."

Arken nodded slowly, "I suppose that does soften the blow a little."

The Dunmer mage crossed his legs underneath himself to sit up, "Arken, take a moment to look at yourself. You're miserable. This isn't the quick-witted, cut-up thief I met in Balmora all those years ago." He placed his hand on Arken's shoulder, "Merrenda wouldn't want you to live like this. You and I both know that she'd scold you up and down if she could see you brooding about her like this."

Arken looked up to the ceiling, "You think she _can_ see me, Nix? Wherever she is, you think she can see that I still love her?"

Fynix smiled and nodded as he patted his friend's shoulder once, "I think that, even in death, she'll always know that, Ark."

The young thief let his gaze fall, giving a resigned nod before looking at Fynix, "Thanks, Nix. It's nice to hear someone say that again."

Fynix shrugged, "That's what friends are for. Now why don't you try to get some rest, all right? We've got a long day tomorrow." He laid back on his mat in an attempt to doze for a few more hours before daybreak.

Arken sat there on his mat and looked at the ceiling again as though he could see through it to wherever his beloved wife was now. He laid back on the mat, looking up at the ceiling, and for a moment, through the shape of the wooden rafters and boards, Arken thought he could almost see Merrenda's eyes looking down at him, filled with the same love he'd seen in them for so many years. But as he blinked once, he could see that it was all his imagination. Arken closed his eyes, seeing within himself that he could never love another as much as he loved Merrenda. Though he would go on with his life without her, there would always be a special place in his heart for her and her alone.

The two Dunmer arose at daybreak the next morning and prepared for their journey to the Imperial City. Arken cinched the last strap on his cuirass and looked down at himself, seeing the black and white wolf emblem of Kvatch on his chest. He didn't particularly care for the fact that this new armor stood out so much, but it was a great deal stronger than the chain mail he had before, so there was little to complain about. As Arken pulled his boots on, he caught Fynix out of the corner of his eye walking into the barracks wearing a full suit of Blade armor shy only a helmet.

He looked at the mage and raised his brow, "Well, don't you look like the ever-dutiful servant of the Emperor."

Fynix cinched an armor strap and checked his katana, "I'll give the Blades one thing: they make some bloody good armor here, and it's a far sight better than that rusty old rubbish I was wearing before."

"Why do you like that kind of armor, anyway?" Arken checked his bowstring before securing the weapon on his back, "It's so heavy, so clumsy. It's hard to dodge an enemy's blade when you're wearing a ton of metal, Nix."

Fynix nodded and held up one finger, "Yes, but there's no need to dodge if the armor is strong enough. Heavy armor can better protect you if you don't mind it inhibiting your movement slightly."

The young thief shook his head, "Well, thanks, but I vote for being able to move. Chalk it up to one of the reasons I move quicker on my own." The two friends gathered what things they needed before mounting up and setting out from the Temple to the Imperial City. Along the way, they both took notice of the landscape around Bruma. They would've noticed it last night, but they were both exhausted and neither was thinking about anything shy of getting to a place to sleep. The land around Bruma was relatively arid, not much plant life apart from mountain evergreens and cold weather ferns, and the wildlife was rather scarce. Being the alchemist, Fynix noted the abundance of wormwood plants up in the higher reaches of the mountains. The journey to the Imperial City was uneventful not counting a Khajiit highwayman who didn't know who he was tangling with and finding out the hard way. The Dunmer pair arrived on time at the City roughly early afternoon. After stabling their horses, they made for the Elven Gardens District in search of Baurus.

Arken and Fynix walked into Luther Broad's Boarding House and looked around. Both had left their armor at the stables with their horses, but kept their weapons at their sides. They looked around the tavern for their elusive ally and comrade.

Fynix leaned over to Arken, "How are we going to find him? Last we saw Baurus, he was wearing armor."

Arken's eyes continued to flit over the tavern's patrons, "Everyone has a face, Nix. We just need to find the right one." His gaze happened upon a Redguard sitting at the bar, casually sipping his drink, and Arken pointed him out, "There. That's him."

Fynix looked to where Arken pointed and furrowed his brow, "How do you know?"

"Not many people walk around with an Akaviri katana on their belt. Exactly the reason I don't wear mine." Arken nodded to his friend, "You stay here by the door. I'll make contact with him." With that, Arken walked to the bar and sat down on the stool next to the Redguard.

He looked at him and leaned closer, "You don't hide very well with that weapon, Baurus."

Ignoring his comment, Baurus looked at Arken out of the corner of his eye, "Listen. I'm going get up in a minute and walk out of here." He twitched his head subtly toward the corner of the tavern, "That guy in the corner behind me will follow me. You follow him."

Recognizing the situation, Arken nodded, "Ready when you are."

Baurus nodded subtly, still not looking at Arken, "Good. Remember, wait for him to follow me. I want to see what he does." The Redgaurd knocked back the rest of his drink before standing and walking around the bar to the cellar door. Arken kept a close eye on the man Baurus referred to, noticing that his eyes followed the Blade's every step even though he appeared to be reading a copy of the Black Horse Courier. Sure as clockwork, as the cellar door closed behind Baurus, the man put the broadsheet aside and stood to follow him. Arken looked at Fynix and jerked his head as a signal to join him as he stood from his stool and moved to follow the man. The guy disappeared into the cellar in pursuit of Baurus, and both Fynix and Arken followed him in.

They followed him down the stairs until they came to the cellar, where they found the man looking around for Baurus. He turned around to leave only to see the two Dunmer who'd followed him in. Arken and Fynix both drew their swords, not knowing what to expect from him. The man raised his hand into the air and a light shined from his fist as he summoned his daedric armor. Before anything could happen though, an arm holding a katana snapped around the corner and impaled him between the shoulder blades, killing him and dissipating the magic before it could take root. Baurus yanked his blade out as he rolled around the corner, letting the body fall to the floor.

"Search his body." He sheathed his blade and stepped over the dead man, "I'll keep an eye out, in case any of his friends are nearby." He walked between them to cover the door. Fynix immediately knelt and started going through the man's pockets and pouches. He didn't find much, little more than a few loose drakes and an empty ale bottle, until he opened the bandolier he was wearing. Fynix pulled out a large, thick book with a purple cover, a numeral "1" in the center of the front.

Baurus came back down the stairs holding a lamp, "Good work. I am glad to see you two, by the way. You just caught me at a bad time." He nodded to the Akaviri katana hanging from Fynix's belt, "I had a feeling that you two would wind up becoming Blades, if Grandmaster Jauffre had anything to say about it."

Arken pushed his sword into the scabbard and nodded to the Redguard, "What have you learned about these guys?"

Baurus hung the lamp from a nearby hook, "The assassins who killed the Emperor were part of a daedric cult known as the Mythic Dawn. Apparently worship the daedric Lord Mehrunes Dagon. I've been tracking their agents in the Imperial City. I guess they noticed."

Fynix shook his head, looking from the book in his hands to Baurus, "I wish our news was as good. The cultists attacked Weynon Priory. They managed to make off with the Amulet of Kings."

Baurus' eyes widened, "What? They took it from Jauffre? Things are worse than I had feared."

Arken nodded, "On a brighter note, we found Uriel's heir. His name is Martin. We had to rescue him from becoming daedra food at Kvatch, but at least he's alive."

Baurus pumped his arm down victoriously, "Thank Talos he lives! Martin Septim, you say? We will restore him to the throne. It is the sworn duty of all Blades."

Arken waved down his excitement, "We won't be restoring anyone to the throne for a while; not until we get the Amulet back."

Fynix slowly paged through the purple book as he spoke, "On the note of the Amulet, what's our next move? This book I found on the cultist's body might help us. From what I can see here, it appears to be some sort of cult text."

Baurus pointed to the book in Fynix's hands, "There's a scholar at the Arcane University. Tar-Meena's her name. Supposed to be an expert on daedric cults. Why don't you take that book to her, see what she makes of it." He took the lamp from the hook, "I'll keep running down leads on the Mythic Dawn network. If you learn anything, you can find me at Luther Broad's. May Talos guide you." Without another word, the Blade turned and left the cellar.

Arken raised an eyebrow as he looked at Fynix, "You think the local bookstores might know something about this?"

The mage shrugged, "I wouldn't know, but I suppose it never hurts to try."

"Alright." The Dunmer thief nodded, "You get that book to the eggheads at the University. See what this Tar-Meena knows about these Mythic Dawn characters. I'm going to sniff around the Market District, see what I can learn through other channels."

The two warriors turned to leave the basement and on to their respective assignments. All three, Arken, Fynix, and Baurus, knew that they had to proceed carefully. The fate of the Empire rested in their hands. "Careful" was a gross understatement in describing how they needed to work.

Several hours passed with nary a whisper from the three working various avenues of information in the Imperial City. Fynix inquired about the strange book at the Arcane University, Arken questioned a number of shopkeepers about whether they'd seen more of these books pass their counters, and Baurus kept checking his sources and running down leads. It all came to a head as the three began to converge on Luther Broad's again, each having completed their assigned tasks. Arken walked with a light stride, carrying a large purple book under his arm that he'd obtained from someone in the Market District. He met Fynix on his way from the University and the two made for the Elven Gardens District. The pair of Dunmer walked into the boarding house and found Baurus immediately.

The Redguard walked up to them and shook his head, "You're not easy men to get a hold of. What have you found out?"

Fynix set the first book they found, plus another, on a nearby table, "Well, this book, the _Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes_, is the cult text of the Mythic Dawn. It was written by their founder, Mankar Camoran. Tar-Meena believes that the text contains a hidden message, a way to find the hidden shrine of the Mythic Dawn, which is likely also their headquarters. But…"

"I knew it." Arken nodded cynically, "There's a catch, isn't there."

"The text actually comes in four volumes, and it's likely we'll need the entire text to decipher the message. We took the first volume from the cultist, and I obtained a copy of the second volume from the University's library. So we have two of the four volumes of the cult text."

Arken checked the spine of the book he carried, finding a number three on it, and handed it to Fynix, "Make that three. I think this is the third volume."

"Excellent." Fynix's nodded as he accepted the book from his friend, "That makes three out of the four. Unfortunately, I wouldn't know where to acquire the fourth volume."

"I think I can help with that." Arken pulled a folded paper out of his pocket and opened it up, "The guy I got volume three from, a Bosmer named Gwinas, said you can only get the fourth volume directly from a member of the Mythic Dawn. When I told Gwinas what the Mythic Dawn really were up to, he pretty much dropped them like a hot ash yam, but he had set up a meeting with a cult agent called the Sponsor to get volume four."

Baurus folded his arms, "So what are you thinking?"

"The Sponsor is still expecting Gwinas. One of us could go in his place, get that book, and high-tail it out of there."

The Redguard smiled, "This just might be the break we've been looking for! Good work. We need to get that fourth book. If Tar-meena is right, we can use these books to locate the Mythic Dawn's hidden shrine."

Arken handed Baurus the note, "The meeting is supposed to take place in the sewers beneath this district of the city, in a room with a table."

Baurus glanced at the note and nodded, "Let's go. I know that part of the sewers well."

Fynix looked up from the volume he was reading, "Pardon my asking, but why in Oblivion would you be familiar with the sewers?"

"The sewers run underneath the whole Imperial City. There are access points in every district. The Blades have occasion to use them in our undercover work, as well as a means to move around the city without attracting attention."

Arken shrugged, "I suppose you have to do what you have to do. Not the first time in my life I'll get a little dirty."

Fynix turned the page of the book he was reading, "If it's all the same to you two, I'll sit this dance out. I'd like to study these books for a bit."

Baurus nodded to him, "That's fine, Fyinx. Arken and I can handle this." He turned and headed out the door. The two Blades found the nearest entrance to the sewers and descended into a dark world of stench, decay, and filth. Arken wrinkled his nose at the smell as he climbed down the last two steps of the ladder. He took a torch from its holder and followed Baurus, who apparently needed no light to navigate the dark passages. The pair followed the dirty corridors for a long time before Baurus stopped in a room with a door on the ground floor and a set of stairs climbing along the wall next to it.

He turned to face Arken, "Alright. The room with the table is just through this door. I always wondered who put it there." He pointed up the stairs to his right, "I happen to know that if you go up the stairs there, you can get a vantage point on the meeting room." He began removing his katana from his belt, "I think I'd better be the one to handle the meeting. You'll be my backup. Keep watch from above in case of trouble."

Arken shook his head, "I don't think so. It's too dangerous. I've done this sort of thing before. I'll meet with the Sponsor."

Baurus' face hardened as he shook his head adamantly, "No, it should be me. I have a blood debt to repay these Mythic Dawn assassins. Besides, I've trained for this kind of thing my whole life."

Recognizing a warrior's need for revenge, Arken nodded slowly in agreement, "Alright. I'll back you up."

"Good." Baurus nodded firmly, "Remember, we must not leave here without the book. It's our best chance of finding the Amulet."

Arken took his bow from his back and tested the string, "Ready when you are."

Baurus removed his katana from his belt and looked at Arken, "Listen. I may not survive this. But if I don't, you must. You must recover the book and find the Amulet of Kings."

Arken gave that mischievous thief's smirk as he drew an arrow from his quiver, "I don't make a habit of failing, Baurus."

The Redguard Blade nodded as he handed his katana to Arken, "Then I'm lucky you're here to save my skin. Come on. Let's do this." The Dunmer took the weapon and scurried up the stairs as Baurus went through the door. Arken came to a bridge that crossed over the room and he stopped to crouch in the darkness of the doorway, watching Baurus sit down at the table. He waited there for several minutes before a light came down a corridor, signaling someone's arrival. A younger man who was presumably the Sponsor, High Elf by the look of him, wearing the blood red robes associated with the Mythic Dawn, came into the room and acknowledged Baurus with a nod. Arken silently drew back his arrow and took aim on the Sponsor, but not firing just yet. He wanted to be ready in case things went bad.

"So, you want to become one of the Chosen of Merhunes Dagon." The Sponsor set the torch he was carrying in a holder and stood across the table from Baurus, "The Path of Dawn is difficult, but the rewards are great." He set a large, purple volume on the table, "I have the book you seek. With it, and the Master's three other books, you will possess the key to…"

Arken tuned the Sponsor out as he noticed a hitch in the plan. Another torchlight was coming toward them, this time from the corridor across the bridge from Arken's vantage point. Two men in the same red robes came around the corner and paused at an iron gate to unlock it. Arken's eyes darted between the Sponsor and these new men. If he killed the Sponsor, it would alert these two to his presence. However, if Arken tried to kill them to protect his secrecy, it might alert the Sponsor and put Baurus in a compromised position. Seconds were counting down as the two robed men unlocked the gate and resumed their path closer and closer to Arken's hiding place.

The Dumner thief took aim as he made his decision. Either way the jig was up, so best to deal with the high value target and protect his ally. Arken loosed his arrow, spearing the Sponsor through the neck and killing him instantly. Baurus' eyes widened with surprise at seeing the Sponsor die so suddenly and he looked up toward where the arrow came from. The two robed men came to the bridge over the room just in time to see the Sponsor fall dead on the stone floor. Arken hopped from the bridge to the floor below, tossing Baurus' katana to him when he hit the floor. The Redguard caught his sword and ripped it out of the sheath as the two robed men on the bridge above summoned their armor and started running down some nearby steps to engage the two.

The fight didn't last long. One of the cultists fell quickly when he attacked Arken. The Dunmer quickly clobbered the guard across the face with his bow, flipping him through the air to land on his chest. Arken then pressed his knee into the cultist's back, grabbed his head in both hands, and twisted hard to break his neck. The other cultist lasted about as long against Baurus. He clumsily swung his mace at the Redguard Blade only for his target to step aside the strike. Baurus then clocked him upside the head with his sword's scabbard, following up with a slash that cut deep into the man's neck, killing him before he even knew he was dead.

Baurus yanked his blade out of the cultist, letting the body fall to the floor, and smirked at Arken, "That's three more that won't be reporting back to their Master."

The Dunmer Blade picked up the big purple book on the table, "And that's the fourth and final volume that we need."

Baurus nodded, "Now that you have all four books, you should be able to handle things from here." He pushed his katana back into the sheath, "I'm going to Cloud Ruler Temple. My place is at Martin's side."

Arken nodded to him, "I'm going to get this book to Fynix. I'll see you later, Baurus."

The Redguard gave Arken a casual salute, "I'll see you back at Cloud Ruler Temple. Good luck."

The young Dunmer hurriedly made his way out of the sewers with the fourth book. It wasn't until after he came out into the fresh air that he realized he smelled like a barnyard, considering he just traipsed across half a mile of sewage. Fynix was overjoyed to learn they'd succeeded, and he quickly whisked all four volumes away to the Arcane University to study them in detail while Arken attended to getting himself cleaned up. Everyone involved knew what this meant. They were close. Soon they would find the Mythic Dawn's shrine and get the Amulet of Kings back. Then there would be nothing to stop Martin from becoming Emperor.


	7. Chapter VI

VI

Three slow days passed since winning the minor victory of acquiring the Mythic Dawn's full cult text. Fynix had his hands full studying the four books, while Arken kept himself busy with other pursuits around the city as he waited. In spite of staying occupied, the three days seemed to crawl by at an annoyingly slow pace. The irritation came from the anticipation. Once Fynix had found the shrine, it would only be a matter of time before they could get the Amulet back. They both had every right to be a little anxious.

Fynix sat at a small reading table in the tower lobby of the Arcane University, looking over the page of the book he was studying, and shook his head. He was getting nowhere, and he didn't like logic puzzles that outwitted him. He couldn't help but feel that the clue he needed was right under his nose. He breathed a resigned sigh as he turned the page and looked over the next set of paragraphs. His attention was only drawn away from the book when he heard the front door open and saw Arken stride in wearing what appeared to be blue gladiatorial armor.

The mage's eyes widened at seeing his friend, "My goodness. What circus are you dressed up for?"

Arken looked down at himself and snickered, "I suppose you could call it that. It's a battle raiment from the Arena. I am officially the Champion of the blue team."

"Well, I'm glad you're keeping yourself entertained." Fynix nodded as he looked back at the book and turned to the next page, his eyes scanning over the words, "What else have you been up to?"

Arken's eyes darted to the ceiling as he recounted his exploits, "Well, I've helped a bunch of merchants deal with a grave robber, rooted out a vampire living in the Temple District, and defeated over a dozen opponents in the Arena. It's all paid very well, too. If you keep up this pace, I'll have my lost fortune back by the time you finish."

Fynix shook his head, still looking at the page in front of him, "You try reading a madman's writings and make sense of it all. I've been studying these books for three days and the only thing I'm getting out of it is a headache. On the other hand, my spare time has been well spent." He reached down next to his chair and held up an ornately carved mage's staff, a long staff of dark wood with a braid pattern spiraling up the upper half that concluded at a white stone set in the top, rather than the gnarled root head most mages kept. The staff was obviously a replacement for the one Fynix had been forced to leave behind in Morrowind a year ago.

Arken arched an eyebrow, "So you're getting nowhere with the books, but you've got a new mage staff all finished up. Do I detect some misplaced priorities here, Nix?" He picked up one of the books and opened it to look in, "Seriously, though, have you learned anything so far?"

The mage shook his head as he set his new staff down, "Besides the fact that Mankar Camoran is quite insane, not much. From everything I've read so far, this cult isn't just a hobby like so many others are. This is very serious, and if I'm not mistaken, they've been around for quite some time, several centuries possibly."

Arken looked up from the book and frowned, "They've been around for hundreds of years and nobody's stumbled onto their shrine? It must be pretty well hidden."

Fynix shrugged, "Well, of course, they're going to hide it well. It's not like there's a big white sign with red letters over it saying…" He trailed off and his eyes widened, "Wait a minute."

Arken furrowed his brow, "Either I missed the punch line or that was a really lousy joke, Nix."

"It wasn't a joke." Fynix grabbed the book out of Arken's hands and quickly flipped through it to the first page, "Tar-Meena may have been on to something earlier. She said that the first word of each paragraph may be significant. I thought it may have been something else, but…" He turned the page before pounding his fist down on his table, "She was right! The first letter of each paragraph is the clue! Give me a minute to write down the message."

Arken furrowed his brow in confusion, "And a big white sign reminded you of this?"

"Not a big white sign. Just the red letters." He pointed to the page of the book, pointing out that the first letter of each paragraph was enlarged and highlighted in red. He spent the next several minutes writing down each letter in order until he came to the final words.

"Now we're getting somewhere." He held up his paper and nodded, "What do you make of this: 'Green Emperor Way Where Tower Touches Midday Sun'."

Arken's eyes darted around as he thought for a moment, "I don't know what the rest of it means, but Green Emperor Way is the graveyard gardens around the Imperial Palace."

Fynix nodded thoughtfully, "And 'Tower Touches Midday Sun' must refer to a time of day. The sun would touch the top of White Gold Tower at about noon." He looked up at Arken, "There must be something in that graveyard that's revealed at noon; something that will lead us to the Mythic Dawn's shrine."

Arken looked out the door at the position of the sun, "Then we'd better hurry if we want to get there by noon." Both Dunmer hastily left for Green Emperor Way, hoping to make it in time. Their rush wasn't made any easier by the crowded streets of the Imperial City. They finally arrived at Green Emperor Way and Fynix led around to where the tower would touch the sun at noon.

They stopped and Fynix looked up to the sky, "This looks like the best place. Now we just need to keep our eyes open for the clue." The mage started looking around, searching nearby gravestones for something that may have appeared. Arken looked around casually when his gaze happened across a large tomb, the royal tomb of Prince Camarril. Some scrawling on the stone of the tomb began to glow red as the sun touched the top of White Gold Tower.

Arken's eyes widened, "Uh, Fynix?"

The mage kept searching the gravestones, "We don't have time to talk, Arken. We have to find the clue."

Arken tapped him on the shoulder, "Fynix?"

The mage batted his hand away, "Not now, Arken."

"Fynix!" Arken finally grabbed the top of his friend's head and turned him to look at the glowing symbol on the side of the tomb.

"By the Nine." Fynix's eyes widened and he looked at Arken, "Why didn't you say you'd found it?"

Arken rolled his eyes, "I was trying to."

Fynix approached the side of the tomb and examined the glowing symbol, "It looks like a map."

His thief friend nodded as he looked it over, "A map of Cyrodill." He pointed to a large emblem that looked like a sun, "And that must be the shrine's location. It looks like it's near Lake Arrius."

Fynix looked at Arken and furrowed his brow, "Lake who?"

"You really need to study a map of this province if you're going to be living here, Nix." Arken pointed a smaller mark near the sun mark, "That's Cheydinhal right there. Lake Arrius is a small frozen lake to the north northwest of the city, in the foothills of the Valus Mountains." The Dunmer thief examined the map for a moment longer before snapping his fingers, "I'll bet there's an uncharted cave there. That must be how the Mythic Dawn have stayed hidden for so long."

"So we have them." Fynix nodded as he looked back at the map, "What's our next move?"

Arken looked down at his battle raiment, "I'm going to get out of this monkey suit and head out to infiltrate that shrine. You head back to Cloud Ruler Temple and let Jauffre know what's going on."

Fynix furrowed his brow, "Are you sure you want to do that alone? I could come with you."

Arken shook his head, "I've done this before, Nix. I know what I'm doing. Besides, Jauffre will want a report on our progress."

The Dunmer mage nodded uneasily, "All right then. Be careful."

Arken gave him that thief's smirk, "Aren't I always?"

"No, you're not. That's why I always worry about you."

The thief shrugged, "Well, then stop worrying. I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself." He turned and started toward the Arena to get dressed into something a little less ostentatious. Being able to take care of himself was a gross understatement. Arken had been taking care of himself since he was seven, and he was over ten times that age now. This would be something he was a little more comfortable with. No more head games and word puzzles from insane cult leaders. Now it was time for a little bit of action, and that suited Arken just fine.

* * *

Arken carefully pushed the door at the mouth of the cave open, leaning his head in and glancing around before stepping in. He'd arrived at Cheydinhal early yesterday evening and spent the rest of the day questioning everyone he could find about this cavern at Lake Arrius. Unfortunately, no one even knew that there was a cavern up at the lake, much less if anyone was living in it. The Dunmer thief set out for the lake early that morning and found the cave entrance quickly enough. He would have found it sooner, but Lake Arrius was a rather remote lake with some pretty rugged terrain surrounding it, so it was no wonder the cave had stayed hidden as long as it had. Now, the sun was leaning into the early noon sky as Arken made his way into the lair of the beast.

He walked into the cave and rounded the bend to find a well lit door with a red-robed person standing guard. Initially resisting the urge to draw his bow and gaff the doorman like a fish with an arrow, Arken cautiously walked toward him. As he suspected, the door guard didn't attack. Anyone who showed up here was someone who had deciphered that kooky message in the _Commentaries_, meaning they were a prospective member. For now, the doorman thought Arken was interested in joining the cult. In order to get as deep as he could before his cover was blown, Arken had no intention of arguing with him at the moment.

The doorman stepped forward as Arken approached, "Dawn is breaking."

Arken's mind went into overdrive as he started thinking up a response. Obviously, this was a code phrase used to determine if the person approaching had indeed studied the books in detail. If they had, they would know the proper response. Arken, however, had hardly even so much as cracked the cover. On the other hand, he did have a mage friend who had, and Fynix had already revealed the necessary response to this code phrase before leaving for Cloud Ruler Temple.

"Greet the new day."

The doorman smiled and shook Arken's hand, "Welcome, brother. The hour is late, but the Master still has need for willing hands." He turned and unlocked the door behind him, "You may pass into the Shrine. Harrow will take you to the Master for your initiation into the service of Lord Dagon. Do not tarry. The time of Preparation is almost over. The time of Cleansing is near." He pushed the doors open and stepped aside, "Harrow awaits within. You should not linger here."

Arken nodded to the doorman as he walked through the door, but didn't get ten feet before being greeted by a tall Dunmer in red robes.

The Dunmer nodded to him, "I am Harrow, Warden of the Shrine of Dagon. By following the Path of Dawn hidden in the writings of the Master, Mankar Camoran, you have earned a place among the Chosen. You have arrived at an opportune time. You may have the honor to be initiated into the Order by the Master himself. As a member of the Order of the Mythic Dawn, everything you need will be provided for you from the Master's bounty." He motioned to his arm, over which was draped one of the red robes these cultists were so fond of, "Give me your possessions, and put on this initiate's robe."

Arken's brow furrowed and he suppressed a frown. He had been hoping this "possession relinquishing" part would come a lot later in the charade. At least that's how other cult groups he'd infiltrated worked. Normally, he'd be halfway through their initiation rites before they demanded that he give up his weapons, at which point Arken was always more than happy to give them the business end of them. But this cult wasn't normal, was it. And unfortunately, there was no way around this without leaving himself vulnerable.

He shook his head, "That's not going to happen."

Harrow stepped back and his brow hardened, "What? I must warn you. No one leaves this place who does not bind himself to the service of Lord Dagon. But I am sure you will reconsider. You have proven yourself worthy and dedicated to have come this far." He held out his hand expectantly, "I ask you one last time: give me your possessions. The Master requires it of all initiates."

The Dunmer Blade gave a coy smirk, "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not here to join the cult."

Harrow's eyes widened sadistically, "Then you have come here to die." He tossed the robe he was carrying aside and drew his hand back to cast a spell. Arken ducked under the bolt of lightning Harrow cast and stood again while drawing his sword, sweeping it upward in the same motion. The blade's edge caught Harrow's arm along the bicep as he drew back to cast again, cutting through the cloth and opening the flesh beneath. He stepped back and cradled his wounded arm. Arken heard the doorman coming behind him and stabbed his sword down behind his head in anticipation of the strike, catching his mace before it could hit him. He turned around on his heels, cranking the weapons around as he did so, and wrenched his sword free to slash the doorman across the neck to kill him instantly. His conjured armor and weapon vanished as he fell to the cave floor. Arken turned to find Harrow making a dash for the door, most likely to warn everyone inside. He turned and leapt toward him, taking Harrow to the ground while impaling him through the back at the same time. He stood up off of the body and pulled his sword out, wiping it off on Harrow's robes before sheathing it again. Arken looked around himself at the two bodies and frowned. The jig was up now. He was hoping to be a great deal further into the shrine before having his cover blown, but what was done was done. He would have to adapt and move on. Fortunately, the only two who even knew he was here were now dead, so he could work with that.

Arken took the time to search both bodies before pressing forward. The search paid off when he found a key on Harrow's corpse that he used to unlock the door ahead of him. He slipped the key into his pocket, knowing from experience that it would come in handy later. With his bow in hand and arrow on the string, he cautiously pushed the door open and started making his way through the caverns. Fortunately for him, the caves were mostly dark and poorly lit, allowing Arken to proceed all but undisturbed as long as he was careful. For the better lit areas, his bow made short work of anyone who could blow the whistle on him.

The Dunmer Blade came into a side chamber and looked around. There was a smaller statue of Dagon in here, but not the large, shrine-like statue he was looking for. This wasn't the room he needed. He turned to leave, but froze when he saw a torchlight coming down the corridor toward this chamber. He turned back into the room and hid the only way he could.

The Mythic Dawn cultist came into the room with a small bundle of gold coins wrapped in a cloth. He came to the base of the statue and gently set the offering down at its feet before bowing to one knee and reciting his prayers. About halfway through his prayers, the cultist's head came up suddenly at the sound of what he could have sworn was a sneeze. He looked around the chamber, but he was the only occupant. Unless the statue had sneezed, then the sound must have come from another room. He shrugged and resumed his prayers where he'd left off. Once he was finished, he stood and left the chamber.

A moment went by after the cultist had departed before the Dagon statue suddenly grew a second head. Arken peered over the statue's shoulder to make sure it was clear before stepping down off the base. The only hiding place he had when the cultist showed up was to hop up behind the statue and mimic its position to stay out of sight. It wasn't recommended as far as stealth options go, but he didn't have any other choices. He would've gotten away undetected if it hadn't been for getting a snoot full of the cave dust on the statue's shoulders. Arken pocketed the drakes the cultist had brought in, blew his nose in the cloth they were resting on to clear his sinuses, and tossed it back at the base of the statue before leaving the chamber.

Several more minutes and a few more minor encounters followed as Arken continued his search for the main chamber. Eventually, his search paid off when he came into a large cavern with a statue of Dagon that had to be a good fifty feet tall. Arken found a dark pillar of stone to hide near and looked down into the chamber. There were a number of cultists down on the lower floor where the base of the statue stood, all their attention turned to the platform in front of them. Arken looked and his eyes widened. It was him! It had to be. Mankar Camoran himself. Harrow had said that the Master was here and he was the only one not wearing the same uniform crimson all of the cultists wore. It had to be him. He was standing on the stone platform at the base of the statue, his arms spread as he preached his tomfoolery to the cultists before him. Arken raised his bow and drew back the arrow, sighting down the Altmer cultist on the platform. If he could take Camoran down here and now, the Mythic Dawn would fall into disarray and he could recover the Amulet of Kings in the confusion. He sighted down the arrow's shaft, aiming at Cameron's neck just off the arrow's head. A shot at this distance would nail him right in the heart. He wanted so desperately to take advantage of this opportunity. But at the same time, his every instinct as an assassin told him it wasn't the right time. He couldn't let enthusiasm get in the way of his better judgment. Arken slowly lowered his bow as Camoran turned around and a glowing portal flashed in front of him, which he stepped into and vanished. Arken reassured himself that there would be another time. They would take Camoran down, and the Mythic Dawn with him.

As the cultists all filed out of the room, Arken spied one person they'd left alone on the platform. The cultist, a woman from this distance, walked up to the pedestal where Camoran had stood only mere moments ago and started paging through something sitting on it. Arken smirked as he raised his bow again. A lone target, likely high-profile given that she stood with Camoran on the platform, and completely unaware of his presence. This time, his assassin's instincts told him he'd be a fool to pass this up. Arken loosed the arrow, spearing the cultist cleanly in the chest, the same heart-shot he'd wanted to use on Camoran. If the fool had only known how close he'd come to death mere moments ago. Arken shimmied down the rock wall and bounded up the steps to check his target. He kept his hand on the dagger in his boot as he knelt down and check her pulse. He nodded confidently when he affirmed that she was dead, and rightly so given the projectile decorating her chest.

Arken stood and looked at the pedestal. There was a large white book resting on it. He stepped up to it and looked it over. He recognized the daedric runes, but was far from able to read them. He reached up to turn the page, but retracted his hand sharply at touching it. It stung his finger when he touched. Arken was no mage, but he could sense the power this book held, and more importantly, he could sense its evil. This had to be the _Mysterium Xarxes_, the book the _Commentaries_ were based on. Arken closed the book, ignoring the stinging in his fingers as he touched it, and set it in his bandolier. If he couldn't recover the Amulet, he could at least get a decent little consolation prize. Hopefully this thing contained information that could lead them to wherever Camoran had gone through that portal. Arken looked around to make sure he was still undiscovered and hurried away with his stolen prize.

* * *

Jauffre walked up around the wall of Cloud Ruler Temple and leaned his hands on the edge as he looked out over the mountain path that led up to the fortress. Fynix had returned not long ago to inform him that they'd found the Mythic Dawn's shrine and that Arken was going to infiltrate it. That was nearly two days ago, and there had been no sign of the illusive elf since. Fynix had been reassuring him that Arken was all right and he could handle himself, but that didn't stop Jauffre from worrying. He couldn't help but be nervous about it. They were trusting the fate of the Empire to the hands of a self-admitted thief. Knight-brother of the Blades or not, Jauffre would have preferred to have someone he knew a little bit better handling such a sensitive matter. He turned away and descended the wall to watch as Achillie and Baragon sparred in the practice area. As the grandmaster of the Blades, Jauffre had plenty to do to keep him occupied, but the incessant waiting was starting to get at him.

A call from the wall caused Jauffre to turn and look toward the booths over the gate. Someone was approaching the fortress. The lookout waved down to the gate guards, who pushed the massive gates open from the inside to allow the new arrival to enter. The clopping of horse hooves on stone preceded a Cheydinhal Black riding up the steps into the courtyard with its Dunmer master in the saddle. Jauffre breathed a relieved sigh as Arken dismounted and led his horse into the stable. The grandmaster Blade approached the Dunmer thief as he rifled through his saddle bag.

"Thank Talos you've returned safely."

Arken threw a bandolier over his shoulder as he turned to face Jauffre, "Sorry I took so long. I would've been here sooner, but I had to shake some pursuit. The Mythic Dawn has sleeper agents everywhere."

Jauffre nodded in acknowledgement, "Do you have the Amulet?"

The Dunmer shook his head, "Unfortunately, I don't. Camoran got a way with it."

Jauffre's shoulders sank and he shook his head, "Please tell me you have some good news."

"I think I do." Arken opened his bandolier to show Jauffre the volume within, "I didn't get the Amulet, but I got a book that I think is the _Mysterium Xarxes_ itself. We might be able to use it to find a way to wherever Camoran took the Amulet."

The grandmaster nodded firmly, "Ah. Good. You should take that to Martin right away." He pointed back toward the central building, "He'll be in the Great Hall, reading. He's hardly taken time to sleep since you left."

Arken nodded to Jauffre as he walked around him to enter the Great Hall. Before he came to the door, Fynix came out from the West Wing and intercepted him.

He fell into step with him as he walked, "So, did you get it?"

The Dunmer thief shook his head as they pushed the doors to the hall open, "Well, yes and no. Camoran got away with the Amulet, but I did get a nice little consolation prize."

Fynix's brow rose, "Well, what is it?"

Arken shrugged, "Just wait and find out."

Martin looked up from the book on the table he was sitting at as the two Dunmer approached, "Ah, you're back. I told Jauffre not to worry." He quickly noted the sincere expression on Arken's face, "I can see you have bad news. You didn't recover the Amulet, did you?"

Arken shook his head, "No, I didn't. But I did get something that could help." He pulled the daedric book out of his bandolier to show to Martin, "The _Mysterium Xarxes_."

Rather than the reaction Arken expected, being happy to see that he'd acquired the cult's ritual book, the exact opposite reaction occurred. Fynix gasped at seeing the book and nearly jumped out of his skin while Martin stood from his seat fast enough to nearly topple it. Clearly, they were not happy about seeing this book.

"By the Nine! Such a thing is dangerous even to handle!"

Arken's gaze flitted between both of his terrified companions curiously, "Did I do something wrong?"

Martin shook his head calmly as he held out his hand, "Forgive me. You were right to bring it. But you'd better give it to me. I know some ways to protect myself from its evil power." Arken quickly relinquished the powerful relic to Martin, who handled it carefully as thought its power could arise to attack at any moment.

Fynix took a deep breath to calm down before speaking up, "For future reference, Arken, rule number one when dealing with evil daedric artifacts is 'don't touch'."

"I'll try to remember that." Arken looked at Martin, pointing at the _Xarxes_, "The more pressing question is can that book lead us to wherever Camoran went?"

Martin look down at the book and shook his head, "I don't know. Maybe." He opened the cover carefully, "I suspect the secret of how to open a portal to Camoran's Paradise lies within these pages. But I will need time. Tampering with dark secrets, even just reading them, can be very dangerous. I'll have to proceed carefully." He closed the book again and looked up to Arken, "In the meantime, you should speak to Jauffre. He was concerned about reports of spies in Bruma."

Arken nodded firmly, "I'll get on that. I'm good at rooting out moles." He turned to head for the door.

Fynix did a double-take at him, "Aren't you going take some time to rest?"

The thief turned around and shook his head, "You know me, Nix. This is what I do. I'm the footman. You're arena is the reading and study; mine's the action. I'm comfortable with this." He pointed at the _Xarxes_, "And speaking of your arena, why don't you help Martin make some progress on that book. I'll be back after I've dealt with these spies." With that said, Arken turned and pushed the hall doors open to go find Jauffre.


End file.
